Hit and Miss
by Piper and Snippy
Summary: "And your father...?" "My mom met him in the bar while she was flat-out drunk. I frankly don't want to think about the implications now that you've shown up on my doorstep." In which Tony is the only one surprised by the fact that he had a kid somewhere out there. Though, Hannah wasn't exactly what one would call a kid. Not when she had kids of her own. (Post-Avengers to IW)
1. Disruption

**Authors Note: This is my first fanfic and I'm still young (high school sophomore) and dumb, so bear with me please. :) My friend begged for me to write her something that was a mix between the October Baby movie and the Marvel movies, so here it is. Oh, and know that you don't have to see the October Baby movie to understand this. The movie was just an inspiration for this fic and the characters. You can probably find it on YouTube if you want to see more of Hannah's personality.  
**

* * *

Virginia "Pepper" Potts had always prided herself on being a relatively calm person. Her cool demeanor, smart sense of fashion, and sense of meticulousness in everything she did gave her the ability to appear in public as an impeccable business woman. Indeed, Ms. Potts was a force to be reckoned with.

Sadly, even the great Pepper Potts of Stark Industries sometimes found herself in situations where she was at a loss of how to proceed. Many times these situations were caused by none other than the thorn in her side, otherwise known as Tony Stark. And while she had a great amount of practice dealing with the eccentric billionaire, this particular situation would be a bit harder to straighten out.

Inhaling deeply, she stepped out onto the curb, wondering just what circumstances had brought her to this small suburban area.

The address on the grey paneled home matched the one that had been hastily scrawled on the slip of paper that now resided at the bottom of her leather briefcase, next to the set of papers that had sent her here in the first place.

A wooden porch swing creaked in the arid summer breeze, red throw pillows tossed haphazardly against the stained oak. The sunshine yellow door was framed by two large potted ferns, giving the place a warm, welcoming look. But what drew her gaze was not the coziness of the place, or even the toys that littered the yard. It was a little boy, looking to be about four or five years old, seated on the porch steps, dangling his legs as he slurped on an orange popsicle.

From her current position it was difficult to see his entire face but his side profile had clearly been inherited from his-

Pepper took another deep breath, making her way towards the modest home.

"Hi." Her greeting was soft, so as not to startle the child. Intelligent green eyes watched her curiously as she drew nearer, their coloring almost a dark hazel. "Is your mother home?"

He nodded slowly. Pepper gave him a reassuring smile.

"Well, do you think I could speak with her?"

Pepper's only warning was another nod before a small, sticky hand grabbed her own and pulled her inside.

"Momma!" he called as he tugged her further into the house.

"In the office, Milo!"

A woman was sitting uncomfortably at an old-fashioned desk, her dark brown hair spilling over her shoulders as she leaned over the desktop.

"What..." The woman's voice trailed off as she glanced up. "O-oh. I didn't see you there. Ms. Potts, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Forgive me for coming in uninvited," Pepper hurried to apologize, trying to discreetly wipe the stickiness from her hand as it was released. "I was inside before-"

"No, no, that's alright. I just... wasn't expecting anyone. Much less Pepper Potts." She gave the little boy an exasperated look. "Milo, what did I say about bringing strangers into the house?"

Milo hung his head. "I'm sorry, Momma. I forgot."

"Milo, you can't forget things like that," she sighed. "We'll discuss this later. There's a snack waiting for you in the kitchen."

"Yay!" he squealed, darting around Pepper's legs to go and claim his prize. Whenever he disappeared his mother gave a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sorry." She extended her hand. "I'm Hannah Lawson. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner."

Pepper gave her an understanding smile as they shook hands, being sure to use her left instead of her still semi-sticky right. "Pepper Potts, though I assume you know that from your earlier comment." Pepper glanced at the files and paperwork scattered across the desk. "If I caught you at a bad time..."

"Oh, no, not at all. Um, would you like a drink? We can sit on the back patio and discuss, well, whatever it is you came to discuss."

"That sounds lovely."

Hannah pushed her chair back, slowly rising to her feet. Pepper quickly noted the gentle swell of her stomach. It wasn't quite noticeable, not yet. Really it was the way Hannah moved, unconsciously resting a hand on her abdomen, that clued her in.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "How far along are you?"

"Eleven weeks."

"Only eleven...?" she asked doubtfully, stopping herself from cringing as she realized how her question could be taken. "You don't look that far along."

"Oh, I should though. Twins." Hannah smiled a little self-consciously. "I'll really start showing when I'm twenty four weeks, probably before then, actually." She grinned then. "Thanks for not calling me fat, though."

"I'm sorry I sounded insensitive at first. I really didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's fine. I know. Thank you."

* * *

After a small detour to the kitchen, the two women found themselves seated on the back porch, sipping their drinks as they made small talk.

Pepper smiled as Milo shot out the door, tumbling down the steps in his hurry to reach the swing set that was set up in the back of the yard.

"Don't get dirty, Milo!" Hannah called. "We're going to Danielle's tonight, remember?"

"Okay, Momma!"

Pepper grinned. "He's adorable."

"He's also a handful," Hannah said laughingly. "Hardly a moment goes by that he isn't into something and making a mess. Last week it was making mud pies, this week it's building a robot." She winced then, glancing at the orange stain on Pepper's light-colored pencil skirt. "I'm really sorry about that. I'll pay for it to be cleaned if you would like-"

Pepper shook her head. "Don't stress about it. It should wash out just fine." Maybe just with a little extra love from those at the dry cleaning service. And from the uncomfortable look on Hannah's face, Pepper knew that she was well aware of that fact. "Really, it's fine. I promise. But, back to the conversation, did he?"

Hannah blinked. "Did he what?"

"Build a robot."

"Oh! Yes, he did. After my hairdryer, alarm clock, and toothbrush all went missing." She laughed. "I don't know how he did it, either. Neither his dad or I were ever good at... electrical systems? Is that what they're called?"

Pepper had to hide a knowing smile. It looked as though Milo had inherited Tony's love of inventing. "The two of you must be proud of him."

"I am. And if Jason were here he would be too." She rubbed the sides of her belly, a far-away look entering her eye. "The uh, Incident... took him from us. It was one of those in the "right place but at the wrong time" things." She gave a humorless chuckle. "And just when New York actually _needed_ more architects."

Ms. Potts blinked. Hannah was a single mother?

Hannah mistook her silence as something different, hurriedly changing the subject.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you must have something important to discuss, since you appeared in person." She tilted her head, gazing questioningly at Pepper.

 _Oh dear_ , Pepper thought _. This is going to be awkward._

"I came here on a personal matter, actually. Some things have come up recently, and a... well, an acquaintance suggested I look into them."

"And what do these 'things' have to do with me?"

"They are you, actually. Are you, by chance, adopted?"

Hannah blanched. "Oh, no, no, no, no. I am NOT dealing with this today."

"Please, Mrs. Lawson," Pepper pressed. "This is very important."

"Yes, I am adopted."

"Do you know-"

"My biological parents? My mom is a lawyer in Mobile, if that's what you're asking. Very successful, hates my guts, and gave me a half-sister who probably has no idea I exist."

"And your father...?"

"All my mom told me was that she met him in the bar while she was drunk and then she found herself pregnant. I frankly don't want to think about the implications now that you've shown up on my doorstep."

Pepper gave a suspicious cough.

"Well, that wasn't the reaction I was hoping for."

"And what were you hoping for?"

"I was hoping that maybe you would want to meet him?"

"Ms. Potts, I'm going to be completely honest with you: I was a mistake. My own mother didn't even care enough to put me up for adoption- she abandoned us in a hospital, and never looked back."

"Sorry," Pepper interrupted. "But you said 'us'?"

"Twins run in the family."

"There wasn't anything on-"

"My brother? There wouldn't be. He never made it out of that hospital."

Pepper's eyes widened.

"O-oh."

"I'm sorry," Hannah sighed. "That was uncalled for."

"I apologize for touching on a sore subject."

"No, I was rude. You shouldn't be the one apologizing."

Pepper gave a wry smile.

"This entire thing is a mess. I should have planned things better."

"Story of my life," Hannah said with a half-smile. "Why the sudden interest, if I may ask? He had what, twenty-two years?"

"Actually, he doesn't know. I wanted to see if you would agree to meet before I told him."

"Why?"

"Because if he knew you existed, he wouldn't leave you alone," she replied simply. "Tony's like the dog that won't give up the bone- once he gets a hold of something he won't let it go. If he found out that he had a daughter who didn't want to meet him, he wouldn't stop hounding you. I would go so far as to say that he would randomly appear on your doorstep."

"I have trouble seeing that."

"I've known him a long time," Pepper stated simply. She stood, passing an envelope to Hannah. "If you decide you do want to meet, my information is on that paper. Give me a call."

Hannah weakly called Milo inside, the envelope held tightly in her hand. Her stomach twisted anxiously as she watched Pepper disappear around the corner of the house, a sharp pang of regret stinging her eyes. They were definitely _not_ tears.

She didn't have time to be overly emotional- her pregnancy took care of the emotional part already.

* * *

When Milo came in she shut and locked the door behind them, sending him to his room to play while she returned to the office. Leaning against the door she shut her eyes tightly, nausea building inside her.

There was so much to be done. Paperwork and unfilled forms littered every available surface in the room, a testimony that Jason's death had flooded her with more than just grief.

"Come on, Hannah," she coached herself. "One more day."

But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? What about the bills and the loans she had to pay back to the bank? The house payment? The funeral expenses? If she didn't make the payments-

No. She couldn't think about that now. Now she had to get ready for her next piano student, and then she had dinner with Danielle and her husband, a good friend of Jason's.

"Mommy?" Milo's voice broke through her thoughts. "I'm hungry."

She sighed. "All right. I'll make you a sandwich."

"With strawberry jelly?"

"Blueberry."

"Yay!"

She gave her head a fond shake. That boy was going to be the death of her.

* * *

"When Emily gets here you have to be very quiet and play in your room, okay?"

"Okay."

She watched Milo eat his sandwich, the jelly smudging his face as he took big bites. He licked his fingers as he finished, earning a raised eyebrow from his mother.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he reached for a napkin instead.

"Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay, mommy."

The air was quiet for several minutes, and she basked in the silence until Milo broke it.

"Mommy, I miss daddy."

"Me too, sweetheart," she said tiredly, head on the table and eyes closed.

"You still have a daddy. Why don't you miss him?"

"I miss your Grandpa Ben very much."

"No, not him. Your real daddy."

Hannah groaned. He had heard them talking?

"Milo-"

The doorbell rang. Milo hopped out of his chair and hurried upstairs as she opened the door.

"Hi, Emily," she greeted the sandy-haired girl on her doorstep. "How was school today?"

The second-grader gave her a toothy smile. "It was awesome! Mr. Banrey said my rhythm really improved, and the music notes don't look like squiggles anymore! And I'm the only kid who knows how to play piano in the _whole grade!_ "

"Wow." Hannah played along. "Sounds like you had an eventful day, huh? Let's go practice, okay? Are you still having trouble with your half notes?"

* * *

Danielle took one look at Hannah before taking charge, sending Diego and Milo outside to see their new puppy while she and Hannah chopped vegetables for soup.

"Alright, what happened?" she demanded. "You've got that look on your face."

Hannah shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Oh, no, no, no. You do _not_ get to play that game. I know you too well for that, Hannah."

Danielle's eyebrows rose as Hannah aggressively hacked at her pile of carrots.

"Gee, what did the orange sticks ever do to you?"

"I met Pepper Potts today."

Danielle instantly became attentive.

"Was this about Jason's contract in New York?"

Hannah quickly shook her head. "No, he told me he never signed the papers. And even if he had, Jason wasn't working for Stark Industries."

"Then why did Potts show up?"

"She wanted me to meet with my dad."

"Your dad?"

"My biological father," she clarified.

Danielle's mouth dropped.

"Are you saying-"

"It was heavily implied. Several times."

"It would make sense, now that I think about it. You know what this means, right?"

"Tony Stark is my father?" Hannah deadpanned.

"Well, that too." She laughed. "This means that you're a Legacy. Like Trip and I."

Hannah snorted. "What?"

"You're Howard Stark's granddaughter. I.e., Legacy."

"Stark wasn't a Commando."

"Grandad said he was." Danielle shrugged. "This is great!"

"For you, maybe. I'm not very happy with the development."

"You told her no, didn't you?"

Hannah nodded. "I did."

" _Han-nah_." Her friend groaned. "Why?"

"I don't have time for this right now. I have enough on my plate without dealing with Tony Stark."

"That's an excuse, and you know it. You're afraid of rejection."

"Well, yeah."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "That's a sucky reason. Pepper Potts came to your house, for goodness sakes. The man obviously wants to meet you."

"He doesn't know."

"And why not?"

"Because Ms. Potts wanted to make sure we would meet before she told him."

Hannah watched in mild amusement as Danielle banged her head on her kitchen table.

"Now we know why you're so infuriating. Pops is gonna flip when he hears this. He always said you reminded him of Howard." Danielle tapped her manicured nails on the wooden surface. "Actually, why don't we drive over Friday? Ma's been talking about having you and Milo visit a weekend for months now."

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on! Have a wild side!"

"The last time someone told me to have a wild side my parents told me I was adopted, you and Diego broke up, Truman got drunk and got into a bar fight with a biker, and Jason and I were arrested for breaking and entering a deserted hospital in an attempt to find my birth mother."

"The first and last two were not my fault." Danielle pouted. "And it was spring break."

"Well we sure lived up to the college fling stereotype," she said wryly.

"Pops gave Diego the shovel talk when we got back." Her friend giggled. "Basically regaled him with epic battle tales of how he fought with Captain America and then finished it off with a well-placed threat to gut him with a rusty old spoon."

"That must have been terrifying."

"Well if he wanted normal he shouldn't have set his sights on a Commando's granddaughter."

"I'm surprised you aren't still single."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Just think about coming, okay? Pops can answer any questions you have about your grandparents. He knew Maria and Howard for a long time."

"I'll think about it."

"Good, now hand me those carrots. You've already defaced them enough- we're not trying to make baby food."

Hannah pouted."We're going to need it soon anyway."

Danielle smirked, rubbing her own belly.

"For me or for you?"

"You're expecting?!"

She beamed. "It's why I invited you to come over. You have to come to Georgia with me, if only to see Pops face when we tell him he's going to be a great-grandfather."

"If only for that," Hannah laughed.

* * *

"How's the family?" Gabe Jones asked, smiling at Hannah. The others had all gone inside the large cabin-like home, leaving her sitting with Danielle's famously known grandfather at the fire pit, and Hannah was sure Danielle had ditched her so Jones could interrogate her himself. She was honestly surprised that he had taken this long to corner her, though she supposed he had been distracted by the news of Danielle's pregnancy, which he had whooped and hollered about loud enough to cause the neighbors to complain. It was... memorable, to be sure, seeing a ninety-something year old dance around like he had.

"They're doing good. Truman's starting his last year of med school, and Mom and Dad are still living it up in California."

"Good." He nodded. "And what about you?"

"I'm okay," she sighed. "It's been rough, but we're making it."

"The peanuts?"

She laughed. "They're doing fine. Morning sickness has taken a toll, but I'm starting to feel better- I can feel small flutters sometimes."

The wind changed, blowing smoke into her face. She made a face, checking her pocket for her inhaler in case her asthma began acting up. Gabe caught the action, standing to his feet and grabbing the water hose. As the flames sizzled out, Hannah looked at him.

"If somethings bothering you, kiddo, speak up. We've had this conversation before."

"That was a waste of a perfectly good fire," Hannah evaded.

Gabe rolled his eyes. "It was a horrible fire, simply for the fact that it was built in the month of June."

"Then why'd you build it?"

"Every single Howling Commando left the front with the unhealthy obsession of watching things burn. It was either a campfire, or set off a few charges."

Hannah chuckled. "Pyromaniacs."

"Exactly." He raised an eyebrow. "Have you told them yet? About the peanuts?"

'Them' being her parents and brother.

"No, I haven't."

He grunted, giving her a disappointed look. "Hannah..."

"I just... I know how they'll react. They'll all rush over to help and-"

"Isn't that what family is supposed to do?"

"Yes but-"

"You worry too much, you know that? You gotta slow down, kiddo."

"Yeah," she huffed. "You've told me before."

"Then why haven't you listened?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know."

"Huh." He sat back in his seat, rubbing his jaw. "You know, I've been alive a long time, Hannah. And lord willing, I'll live a bit longer."

"I doubt you're going to just keel over and die," she laughed. "You're still pretty spry for a ninety-four year old."

"No thanks to you and Danielle's hi-jinks."

She gave him an unapologetic grin, earning a scowl.

"As I was saying, I've lived a long time. I've learned how to read people. And right now, I'm reading that you, you little sneak, have a lot more on your mind than you're letting on."

"Now I know where Danielle gets it," Hannah teased. "You're a family of mood-sensing stalkers."

He raised a dark eyebrow. "Very funny. Now come on, spill it."

She stared at the still smoking ashes, watching them flicker in and out.

"I found out my father is Tony Stark."

"And?"

" _AND_? That's all you've got to say?"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm surprised?"

"Aren't you?"

"Nope. I figured it out years ago."

She stared at him.

"Are you kidding me? Why didn't you say something?"

"There were... circumstances." He said hesitantly.

"Like me having a dead twin and being aborted?"

"That was the tip of the iceberg." He said quietly. "Some things were kept from you for your own protection- we all agreed it would be best."

"We? Who is we?"

"The Commandos, my superiors, a whole lot of other people I'm not supposed to mention."

She scowled at him. "More lies. How surprising."

"Not lies. Just silence on some matters."

Hannah pursed her lips. "When did you figure out that Stark was my father?"

"When Danielle brought you here for the first time."

"That was fourteen years ago. How-"

"You had excellent marks in school, far above average. You were a prodigy with music, and you are the spitting image of Howard. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together. I made a call and the HC's did a little digging for me."

"I didn't have high marks."

"You did, they were just covered up so they wouldn't draw attention to you. We couldn't risk that."

 _That was the reason I got so many B's in math?_ _That's why I got so frustrated when I kept getting the same answer? Because they "covered them up"?_ Disbelief filled her. How had she never realized any of this? How could she not have picked up on any of these things? She had checked and rechecked some of those math problems, spent hours relearning the things she had missed, and now she learned that she likely hadn't gotten them wrong in the first place? What was wrong with these people?

"Is Danielle just pretending to be my friend as well? Was Jason a plant to keep an eye on me?" She snapped.

"Danielle is the only reason we knew you existed in the first place. And Jason... never doubt that that wasn't real. He wasn't supposed to get involved, but it turned out for the best."

"You're lying." She said slowly, staring at him with wide eyes. "Please tell me your lying?"

Gabe shook his head.

"Jason was placed when... threats were made against you. He was supposed to watch from a distance, but when things started to go sour... He really did love you Hannah, there was no faking that kind of devotion."

Hannah sat in stony silence for several long moments, mulling over everything.

"How did he die, really?" She asked finally. "And where?"

"Undisclosed location, 30,000 feet in the air. Died honorably, from what I was told."

"The Incident?"

"Yes. The transport was attacked and he fell protecting his comrades."

She took a deep breath through her nose, fighting tears.

"At least tell me his parents aren't his parents?" Hannah asked in a flat attempt at humor. "They're not actually my children's grandparents?"

"Nope, those two are still real."

"Stupid in-laws." She grumbled.

Gabe gave a small bark of laughter.

"You gonna be okay, Hannah?"

"It's a lot to take in."

"Yeah, well you're taking it in really well."

"Actually, I just refuse to hit an old man."

"Hmff." He grumbled. She gave a watery laugh, wiping at her eyes.

"I'll be okay. I've got a lot to keep fighting for, after all."

"As long as you keep telling yourself that, you'll be alright."

Their conversation ended when Danielle popped her head outside, proudly announcing that she had successfully gotten Milo to eat at least half of his vegetables.

"It's a miracle." Jones grinned, well aware of how much Milo hated that particular food group.

"Says the man who used to sneak his onto my plate." Danielle retorted.

"You never knew!" He said defensively.

"Oh, I knew alright. I fed them to Max when you and Grandma weren't looking."

"God rest that poor dog's soul."

* * *

 **Authors note #2: Please know that the mentions of abortion are not meant to offend anyone, okay? It's a major theme in the October Baby movie, and is very important to the plot. Normally I wouldn't give a crap, but sensitive topics are... well, sensitive topics, and I try to actively avoid stepping on peoples toes when it come to them. And any mistakes, I will likely find later, sorry if you see any though. So yeah. Hit the magic button and leave a review please! Let me know how you like it, and if I should continue!**


	2. Upheaval

Tony wasn't responding to her calls, which was normal, but Jarvis reported that he had also locked himself in his lab with Bruce, which was her first red-flag. Pepper took a deep breath through her nose, something she had found herself doing quite often but especially today, while she silently ran through a list of things that could have caused Tony to hole himself up again, none of them promising.

All she had wanted to do was come home, shed her heels and business persona for the night, and maybe eat an entire pint of ice cream as she reproached herself for keeping Tony's daughter away from him. And perhaps have a good cry, not that she would admit it should anyone ask her her plans for the night.

"Jarvis, initiate override protocol for Pepper Potts, please." She replaced her stressed frown with a business-like expression, the one that Tony claimed made her look like an emotionless zombie. The lab doors hissed open, and she quickly stepped into the room, eyes searching for her fiancé.

"Tony," she said as she found him. Well, half of him anyway. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" he muttered testily from underneath the car. "You're the one who's been keeping secrets lately."

Her eyes jumped to Bruce, silently questioning the man who had run the DNA sample that was probably obtained in a less than legal manner by the tower's resident archer.

"He found the results on my desk," Bruce replied with a grim smile.

"I got the call long before I even saw the papers," Tony's voice called irritably. "Were you planning on telling me?"

"I was trying to arrange a meeting today."

She shook her head as Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"She's going to think about it."

There was a loud clank as Tony dropped his wrench and slid out from beneath the car, his face set in hard lines. His dark eyes were bloodshot, from drinking or lack of sleep she didn't know, and his clothes were rumpled and stained with streaks of some unidentifiable substance.

"See, when people say they'll think about it, it normally means no."

He grabbed a rag, rubbing the oil from his blackened hands as he moved to leave the room.

"Tony-" Bruce began, only to be cut short as Tony sent him a hard look over his shoulder. He swallowed. "Don't you think that maybe you and Pepper need to talk about this?"

Tony met Pepper's eye for a brief moment. "I'll think about it."

Forget the pint of ice cream. Pepper was going to eat a gallon. And by the look on Bruce's face, he was going to need some Rocky Road, too, in a Hulk-size portion.

* * *

Hannah was having a horrible day. Already exhausted by the trip home from Georgia, she had woken up the next morning vomiting anything she had eaten the night before.  
After not being able to keep anything beyond a bit of water down without having to hug the toilet for her efforts, she finally gave up.

Now she was curled on the couch with a headache, begging Milo to stop tinkering with his robot so she could get a few moments of sleep. With a cold rag on her forehead, she had finally drifted off when her phone began to ring. She sat up, letting the rag fall into her lap as she squinted at the screen, blearily reading the caller id.

"You seriously couldn't have waited another hour to call me?" she sighed as she hit accept call.

" _Hello to you too,_ " Truman answered good-naturedly. " _You sound awful_."

"I feel awful," She groaned, leaning back into the couch.

" _Oooo! Give me the symptoms so I can give you a diagnosis- it'll be good practice for me_."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, but I would rather not be your guinea pig," She hedged.

" _Just humor me._ "

"I already have a diagnosis."

" _Then give me some symptoms and we'll see if I can guess right_."

She ticked the list off on her fingers. "Weight gain around midsection, weird cravings, emotional upheaval, morning sickness, and general grumpiness."

There was a beat of silence.

" _Pregnant? You're pregnant? And you're just telling me this?! Are you insane?_ "

She winced, holding the phone away from her ear as her brother shouted at her. "Yes, I am pregnant, and no, I am not descending into madness. I am still very sane, thank you very much. Well, mostly sane anyway."

" _That doesn't reassure me. You've been getting prenatal care, right?_ "

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Truman."

" _Good. What did they say?_ "

"Well, there's two of them in there so..."

She could have sworn she'd heard him drop his phone. "Truman?"

" _I'm here. Just... whoo. Are they Jason's?_ "

Hannah choked. "WHAT? Why would you even ASK that? Of course they're Jason's!"

" _Just checking,_ " he mumbled apologetically. " _So how far along are you?_ "

"Almost twelve weeks."

He gave a low whistle.

" _You kept this a secret for three months? Hannah, why?_ "

"I don't even know anymore, Truman. It just- it felt wrong to celebrate then. Does that make sense?"

" _Gotcha_." She inwardly thanked him for dropping it. " _I guess I'll let you get back to be pregnant. Call me again when_ -"

"No, wait!"

" _...Yeah?_ "

"There's... more."

He teased her in a lilting voice. " _Oh gee, I don't know if I can take any more, Hannah. You already told me I'm going to be an uncle again- twice over. Shouldn't you let a guy have a break before you tell him anymore earth-shattering news?_ "

"Ha ha, very funny." She blew out a breath. "I have my biological father's contact information and a chance to meet him. Oh, and apparently Gabe Jones knew who he was the entire time, not to mention that Jason was a plant who ended up falling for his assignment and marrying her without telling her that he worked for the men in black..."

There was a long moment of silence.

" _I'll be there in a few hours_."

"Truman, no."

" _No, no, it's alright. Summer break doesn't end for a few weeks anyway_."

"Truman-"

" _Hannah. Stop arguing, okay? Let me come and help out for a few days. I haven't seen you since May. I miss my baby sis_."

"You miss bossing me around, more like."

" _That too, I guess. I'll be there by tonight, okay? Captain Carrothead is here to help!_ "

She gave a weak laugh, rubbing her eyes. "Captain Carrothead is a dork."

" _Why yes, yes he is. Oh, and Hannah?_ "

"Yes?"

" _I love you, sis._ "

"I love you too, Truman."

" _Now before I hang up, are you SURE that there's nothing else you need to tell me?_ "

She debated on telling him who her father was for all of two seconds before realizing that that was probably a topic best discussed in person. So instead she simply said, "Danielle is pregnant too."

" _Dang it, Hannah._ "

* * *

"Uncle T!" Milo shouted, coming out after hearing the car trunk slam shut.

"Hey buddy! How's that robot coming?" Truman asked, dropping his suitcase to catch his nephew up into his arms.

"It works!" Milo announced proudly, hugging him tightly.

Truman grinned, patting the kid's back gently before setting him back down . "I knew it would. How's your mommy acting?"

"She's still sad," Milo muttered, ducking his head.

"Sad-mad, or just sad?"

"Sad, I think."

"Ah." Truman nodded in understanding. "Where is she? Does she know you're outside?"

Milo shook his head. "She said she needed to hug the toilet. I think that means she sick," he added matter-of-factly.

Truman gave a wry smile as he picked up his suitcase and opened the front door. "I think you're right. Which bathroom?"

The four year old pointed to a door. "That one."

"Can you go play with your toys while your mom and I talk?"

He nodded, his face pulling into an unhappy expression.

Truman bit back a smile. Milo's pout was almost a duplicate of his sister's when they were younger. "Tell you what, if you play quietly, we'll watch a movie later. Deal?"

"Deal!"

He watched in amusement as the child slid through the halls on socked feet before he slowly opened the bathroom door.

"I hope you're decent," he warned.

"Yes, I'm decent," Hannah snapped. "I don't walk around naked."

"That's good to know." Truman leaned his hip against the doorway, his blue eyes studying Hannah with medical professionalism. Her pale skin contrasted with her dark hair, which she held back as she dry heaved from her position in front of the toilet. "Well don't you look just... miserable."

"Flattery will get you anywhere," she replied shortly, sarcasm tinging her voice as she sat back on the white tiled floor.

He grinned. "Except through med school."

"I'm surprised you stuck with it."

"You and me both." He scanned her pallid face, pushing up his black-framed glasses. "How have you been?"

"Other than yacking up a kidney you mean?"

"Hannah."

She swept a strand of sweat-dampened hair from her face as leaned back against the wall.

"I'm tired," She admitted.

"Well, that's not surprising, given all you've been through lately. How are you sleeping at night?"

She scoffed. "Sleep? With Milo's nightmares and my own?"

Truman didn't speak as he slid slowly down the wall to sit beside her. The silence following the action lasted several minutes, barred by the sounds of Milo playing a few rooms down. He finally let his head loll sideways so he could see her clearly.

"What are you going to do?" It was a loaded question.

"I don't know," she said softly, chewing on her fingernails.

"Stop that," he chided, swatting her hand away from her mouth. "That's unhealthy."

She sighed, muttering a quiet apology.

"You should think about contacting your dad," he blurted suddenly, holding up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. "No, no, listen, okay? You're a single mother with two more kids on the way. And as our parents live all the way in California... you need someone who isn't on the other side of the continent."

"Truman, he lives in New York."

"That's still closer than San Francisco."

"Virginia is still closer than New York or California."

"Maybe, but I'm not going to be very dependable for the next while."

"I doubt my father's very dependable."

"How would you know?"

"Because he's-"

"MOMMY! THERE'S A PIRATE IN THE HALLWAY!"

Hannah groaned, burying her head in her knees.

"Mommy, he's staring at me with one eyeball! It's freaky!"

Truman laughed loudly. "Oh, to have the imagination of a kid again." He sent her a grin. "Want me to check it out?"

"No need."

A dark-skinned man appeared where Truman had been standing moments ago, a black patch covering his left eye. He watched them critically as Truman moved quickly in front of his sister, blocking her from the man's view.

"Who the hell are you?" he blustered.

"Nick Fury of SHIELD," the man drawled. "Mrs. Lawson, would you please call off your... guard dog so we can speak privately?"

Hannah peered behind Truman, meeting the man's intimidating stare.

"Where's my son?" Her voice had a hard edge, but there was a touch of worry there if one knew where to listen for it.

"The kid's still in his room- no one's gonna touch him."

"I'm getting really sick of random people entering my house without warning," she grumbled.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for pressing matters," he retorted coolly. "I'm here to discuss a matter of national security."

"What does a twenty-two year old single mother have to do with national security?" Truman asked, baffled.

"More than you think. I'll be in the kitchen." Fury glanced at Hannah. "You can bring your guard dog."

Then he was gone.

"Is there something I'm missing?" Truman asked her.

"Um, I'm going to guess this is something about my dad."

"Please tell me that's not your dad," he begged. "I don't think I can handle it. That was the scariest evil eye I've ever seen. Can you imagine if he had _both_ eyes?"

"My 'dad' is Tony Stark."

Truman was silent for a long moment, his mouth gaping.

"Oh that is _so_ much worse."

Hannah couldn't help it. She laughed.

* * *

"Hey, Danielle." Hannah tucked the phone against her ear with her shoulder as she exited the bathroom, making a stop in Milo's room to check on him. She gave him a small wave with her finger tips as he glanced up, the 'pirate' all but forgotten as he played with his cars, using books and blocks to build ramps for the vehicles to slide down. She quietly shut the door to her son's room, walking into her own to sit on the bed. Truman stayed in the hall, pacing up and down worriedly. He was more than a little freaked out by everything going on, if his mumbling was anything to go by. "You wouldn't happen to know a Nick Fury, would you? Because he's sitting at my kitchen table right now, listening to our conversation."

" _Wait, Fury's at your house?! I mean... it depends. Who is Nick Fury? I don't know any Nick Fury's_."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Right. Anyway, he claims to be the director of some medieval object used in jousting...?"

" _You could have just said SHIELD, you know that?_ "

"So you _do_ know what I'm talking about."

" _Well, duh. Hannah, it's literally the family business. Where do you think Trip and Diego disappear to all the time? Howard Stark is the one who founded it, by the way. In case you wanted to know your family history._ "

"Thanks, but if I wanted to know my family history I would have just googled it. Literally, there are at least fifteen million articles. And that's probably just for Maria Stark. But can we get back to the topic? I really need to know if this guy is legit or not."

" _R_ _emember that guy grandpa mentioned? The Colonel?_ "

"The cross between Cyclops and Mace Windu?" Hannah paused as it clicked. "Oh no. Are you kidding me? Nick Fury is the Colonel?"

" _I'm so glad you finally put it together. I applaud you._ " Hannah rolled her eyes again at Danielle's dry tone. " _But yeah. If he's Mace Windu's doppelgänger and has an eye patch, it's likely the right guy."_ She paused, her voice dropping into a serious tone. _"Hannah, Fury is kinda a big deal. A really, really big deal. If he showed up in person, it's important. Like, world-threatening important. He wouldn't make a personal appearance unless something was wrong on a major level_."

"So something is incredibly wrong," she guessed, screwing her nose up.

" _I hate to be the one to say it, but yeah, sounds that way. Keep me updated if you can, okay?_ "

"I will." She hung up with a sigh. "What happened to normal conversations? Actually, what happened to normal in general?"

* * *

"Took you long enough," Fury grunted as they entered the kitchen.

"I checked with a friend to see if you were authentic after I filled my brother in on some things," Hannah replied as she slid a chair away from the table. "Since I'm guessing this has something to do with my biological father."

Fury gave a curt nod. "It does. But I came to discuss other things as well."

"Other things?"

"Firstly, to give my formal apologies for the death of your husband. We lost a lot of good agents that day. Normally when an agent dies in the line of duty their funeral is paid for in full by SHIELD and their spouses receive a death pension. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, we were unable to do so with Lawson. Now that you know of his work, however, you can receive these benefits if you choose to do so."

She sat down. "Jason worked for SHIELD."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, a grudging acceptance of the piece that fit the puzzle.

"One of my top agents."

"Best of the best, huh?" She drummed her fingers lightly against her crossed legs, avoiding Fury's stare. "He could certainly keep secrets."

Fury grimaced. "I apologize for that. We thought it best if-"

"Don't apologize for something my husband did. He's dead and buried, and I would rather let sleeping dogs lie at the moment. He may have been under orders, but it was still his choice in the end."

Hannah swallowed thickly at the admittance. She still loved Jason as much as she had when he was alive. But to find that he wasn't an architect like he said he was, to find that he wasn't just a man who had wandered into her life by chance but had been hired to do so instead, to find that he had lived a completely different life when he was away from home on his "business trips"... it hurt. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know the things he had kept away from her. Maybe he had simply kept it from her to keep her from worrying as he was out risking his life, but she still felt betrayed, like their entire marriage had been built on lies. And maybe it had been, but that didn't change the fact that she still loved him. And that hurt even worse because she couldn't stop herself from loving the man she felt like she no longer knew.

Truman slipped his hand underneath the table to hold hers, comforting her silently. She squeezed his hand gently in thanks as the room slipped into silence. When it became stifling she bit her lip, turning her eyes to Truman, quietly begging him to break the stalemate in conversation.

"Um." He coughed awkwardly. "I think it's best if we uh, continue with why my sister is involved in a potential threat to national security?"

Fury stared at them for a long moment. "Someone is doing a sweep, looking for her. Who, we don't know. But there's been too many red flags not to take this seriously."

"That's just a threat against her. Not against national security," Truman put in.

Fury gave him an unimpressed look. "Stark is one of the most influential people in the world. If there is a way to get to him, people are going to try to find it. You are a major target, for obvious reasons."

"I don't even know him," Hannah protested.

"The fact of the matter is, Mrs. Lawson, they won't care." Fury leaned in on the table, his fingers splayed to balance him, gaze serious. "Whatever technology they have, it's advanced. They're sweeping through records, through footage, anything they can get their hands on. They will find you. They may have already."

Hannah leaned back in her seat, glaring at the ceiling. "So I'm a threat because I can be used against an Avenger who has no idea I exist. Brilliant."

Fury leaned back, straightening as he folded his hands behind his back. "For your safety, we're moving you and your son to a secure location, effective immediately."

Hannah's head snapped down, ending her ceiling musing. "Excuse me?"

He ignored the exclamation. "I suggest you pack quickly. You have an hour."

"No, no, hang on. Where are we going?"

"Undisclosed location. Your cooperation is appreciated." His expression was hard as he stared at her.

It was a veiled suggestion, a warning. Cooperation or not, she had the sinking feeling that whatever her decision was, she would still end up in an "undisclosed location".

"Don't count on it," she muttered before storming away to pack and find Milo. Truman scrambled after her, tripping on his feet as he hurried to get away from Fury.

* * *

"Is this really a good idea?" Truman asked, watching as Hannah threw things into a duffel bag at random. He highly doubted she was aware of half the things she packed.

"Probably not."

"Then why go through with it? How do we even know that this 'Nick Fury' didn't make this whole thing up? What if he's one of the people who's supposedly after you?"

Hannah glanced at him from where she was pulling clothes from her closet.

"Gabe warned me before I left his place that I would probably get a visit from the Colonel at some point in the future, but he didn't tell me much beyond a description. Not even a name."

"And you know this is him because..."

" 'He has a one-eyed glare that will curdle milk and looks like the Jedi from Star Wars who has the purple sword thingy,' " Hannah quoted. "Weird, but that's how he described him. You know, I'm surprised that you didn't fangirl and ask him about his lightsaber."

"He does look a little like Mace Windu... hey! I do NOT fangirl!"

"Mh-hm," she hummed, shoving a few more things into her suitcase. Truman huffed.

"Are you really going to go along with this? Hannah, this is your home. It's where we were raised, where you and Jason lived, where Milo took his first steps."

Hannah shut her eyes. "I know that," she said quietly. "I don't have much of a choice here, Truman. Milo and the twins... they're my children. My cheesiness and honesty demands that I call them my everything. I'm not going to put them at risk. The Avengers... some people want them out of the picture. Stark is one of the most influential members on that team and if someone thinks they have a way to stop him, they'll go for it. They'll go for me. And I can't allow that."

She turned on him, her wide brown eyes pleading with him not to argue. He ran a hand through his hair, standing it on end.

"I'll go with you then."

"I can't ask that, T."

"You don't have to."

She gave him a small smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you," she said, falling back. "I'll grab Milo, then we can go. Hopefully he's asleep and I can just carry him."

"You really shouldn't be carrying-"

"I'm pregnant, not handicapped," she shot back with a grin. "Besides-" She nodded at the bags. "-your hands are full."

* * *

Hannah wished she had taken something for motion sickness before she left as she tried not to get sick as turbulence shook the small plane. _Quin-jet_ , she corrected herself. _That's what Fury called it_.

The man was sitting across from them, his eye open and glazed in an odd combination that made him seem unfocused yet aware of his surroundings all the same. She was thankful he had directed his gaze elsewhere at the moment, obviously not believing either of them to be a threat. She might have been offended if she wasn't so relieved.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" she asked, almost hoping he wouldn't hear her. No such luck, though at least he didn't look in their direction as he spoke.

"Manhattan," he replied shortly.

Her stomach tightened painfully as tears pricked her eyes. It was silly, crying over this, while knowing that Jason hadn't died in a crushed building like she had been told, but in some sort of air transport.

"Hey," Truman's voice called gently, his hand once more taking her own. Her brother's blue eyes watched her knowingly, flashes of worry flitting around in the orbs behind his glasses. "Hannah Banana. You okay?"

She nodded before changing her mind and giving her head a small shake.

"Okay, just take deep breaths. We don't want any panic attacks." He placed her hand on his chest so she could feel his breathing, using it as a grounding technique. "Breathe in... and breathe out... come on, do it. I don't care how dumb you think it is."

She gave a choked laugh. "It's not dumb."

"Then do it. Breathe in... breathe out."

"You good?" he asked as her breathing became more even.

"Yeah."

"Need your inhaler?"

She glared at him.

"No."

"Okay then."

* * *

Hannah was beginning to see where Jason had gotten his tendency to do everything as quickly and efficiently as possible. It was how SHIELD functioned, that was already clear to her. They reached Manhattan hours before they would have on a commercial plane, and were quickly transferred to a car with tinted windows, Milo wedged in-between Truman and herself, his soft snores a small piece of normalcy. Fury slipped into the front passenger seat, nodding to the driver and seemingly signaling him to start the car.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they pulled out of the airport.

"To a secure location."

"Are you always so vague?"

"I'm a spy, Mrs. Lawson. It's my job to be vague."

"All I'm asking is for you to give me a straight answer. Where are we going?"

"Stark Towers."

"Wait, I can't go there!"

"You don't have another option."

"I don't have one or you won't give me one? I'm not dumb, I'm sure SHIELD has resources. You probably have over a thousand safe houses just in the south east."

"And I would." Fury glanced in the rear-view mirror. "But there's a leak in SHIELD. And until I know where it's coming from you're safer here."

"How do you know there's been a leak?"

"We've been the ones protecting your identity for the past twenty-two years, Mrs. Lawson. We were very thorough in covering our tracks, and the fact that someone knows enough about you to start a worldwide sweep tells me that someone's being paid not to be very discrete in their work. Does that satisfy you?"

"Not really, but I can tell that you're not going to give me anything else."

* * *

 **Author: Yay! I updated! If you see any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them. This is kinda not beta-ed so I only have my eyes to check for mistakes since I like to update as soon as I finish writing a chapter. And yes, I know that Tony and Pepper aren't actually engaged in the Marvel Universe, but I ship them so hard that I kinda added that... also, thank you so much _lilyblaney_ for reviewing and being the first to do so. I was so glad that someone did- it's easy to get discouraged when no one comments. And also a big thank you to all who followed/favorite-ed this story!  
**


	3. Misconceptions

**A/N: Okay, so I'm not exactly happy with this chapter, but I'm going to go ahead and post it. If you see anything that could be better clarified, or a mistake that I may have missed, let me know. In fact, if there is anything you want me to know, go for it. PM me, or pop in to give a review. I'm open to any ideas, scenes, or character cameos you would like to see. Heck, if you want to leave a prompt I would be tickled pink to get it!**

* * *

" _Sir, Ms. Potts is requesting your presence upstairs._ "

"Later, Jarvis. I'm busy with something."

Bruce shot Tony a worried look. "You should see what she needs."

"She wants to talk about my daughter. That's it."

"Tony, you've got to stop skirting around this."

"Skirt around what? The fact that I have a daughter I didn't know about? Who doesn't want anything to do with me?" Tony pulled a face. "No thank you. I don't do feelings."

Bruce decided to ignore the man's statement about feelings. It would start an argument that would consist of him pointing out all the times the billionaire _had_ "done feelings" and said billionaire running circles around him with his skewered logic on emotions. The last time they had had a similar debate he had commented that Tony didn't have a degree in psychology so "What could he know about it?". Tony had smugly come into the lab a week later, casually dropping his new diploma on Bruce's desk for the scientist to find. Bruce had no idea how he had gotten a degree in a study that would usually take years in only a few days, and when asked all Tony would say was, "I'm a Stark. I became an expert on thermonuclear astrophysics in one night. Is psychology really such a stretch?" Yes, Bruce had thought. Yes, it was a stretch, even for Tony. For a man claiming to not "do feelings", it didn't make much sense for him to go for a degree in psychology just to prove a point. But then again, this _was_ Tony Stark.

"Lots of people want nothing to do with you. That never stopped you before," he said instead.

"Yeah, well I've never had to deal with something like this before. I mean, sure there were some paternity cases that have been settled over the years, but none of them turned out positive." Tony grabbed a hex nut from one of the workstations, tossing it up in the air and catching it in his hand. "If they had turned out positive... I don't know. I might have kept the kid, I might not have. It sucks to be the parent that doesn't want to be in the picture, but a few years ago... well, that would have probably been me. But I lost the chance to find out since I'm assuming that whoever I knocked up was too drunk to remember it, hence why I never had any "Yay! It's a girl!" balloons."

" _Sir_ ," Jarvis interrupted, " _It seems that someone at SHIELD is attempting to override my systems_."

Tony's previous ramblings were forgotten as the AI alerted them "Go into lock-down mode, you know the drill, Jarvis. Add some more firewalls if you have to, just to get on their nerves. I assume you've already traced the program?"

" _It appears Director Fury is the one attempting to access the servers. I believe he is trying to gain entrance to the elevator downstairs_."

Tony scowled. "Let him up, I guess, and bring the elevator to the communal floor in the penthouse. I'll be there in a few minutes." He turned to Bruce. "You should probably come too. It's likely something with the team."

"Let me get out of my lab coat."

Tony shrugged. "No rush. Let him wait for a few minutes- it's fun to watch him get in a twist. Speaking of which... Jarvis, stop the elevator a few times in-between floors, just for fun."

Bruce had to cough to cover his laugh as he tried to give the billionaire at least a semblance of a disappointed stare.

* * *

Fury wasn't alone.

Tony blinked. There was a woman sitting on his couch, her head held in her hands as her elbows rested on her knees. A man with bright hair and clunky black glasses sat beside her and in-between them was a young boy curled into the man's side, fast asleep. Pepper was seated across from them, a small smile on her lips, while Fury was glaring down his nose at the unknown woman.

"I don't see how this qualifies as a secure location," she was saying, her brown hair covering her face. "It's a constant target."

"Be thankful that it's a heavily-fortified target that has one of the best security systems in the world," Fury retorted.

"That doesn't make it secure."

"No place can be completely secure. Some are simply safer than others."

"Yeah, well you could have brought me somewhere else."

"Sorry to ruin what sounds like a compelling debate, but please tell me that the kid's not mine," Tony cut in, stepping out of the elevator. He peered at the boy, paling when he realized the strong resemblance.

"He is, isn't he?"

The woman's head snapped up, wide brown eyes staring at him. "Mercy, no. Milo's is mine."

Pepper stood quickly, hoping to intervene before the situation could become any more awkward. "Tony, this is Hannah. She's..."

"My spawn, I know." While he sounded blase, the realization that his daughter was there made him feel slightly sick. He was in no way ready for a face-to-face confrontation. He wasn't sure he would have been even if he had had a warning that she was going to pop up in his living room. A warning would have been nice, he thought. Maybe then he wouldn't have made their first meeting so uncomfortable by sticking his foot in his mouth. Who mistook their grandson for their own kid, anyway? He turned to Pepper, voicing his thoughts. "You couldn't have warned me?"

"You locked me out of your lab, ignored Jarvis when he gave you my message, and refused to answer any of my calls. How was I supposed to warn you that she was coming with Fury?"

"Oh, right." Tony gathered his scattered thoughts, scrambling for something to say that would diffuse the disquiet he had caused with his earlier assumption and conversation with Pepper. He hated awkward situations where he wasn't the deliberate instigator. "You're ah, older than I thought you'd be?"

She stared at him for a long moment before she sent Pepper a confused look. "I thought you said he didn't know?"

"He received a call from an old friend a few days ago," she said quietly in reply. "From the same source who suggested that you were a Stark, actually."

"I'm going to have a serious talk with Danielle's nosy grandpa," Hannah huffed.

"Gabe's always been a busybody," Tony agreed, still shocked.

His daughter was sitting in front of him. _And grandson_ , he added, wrinkling his nose. He was way too young to be a grandfather, thank you. Tony didn't even like kids: they were sticky, messy, and loud. Unfortunately, he was far more like them than he wanted to admit, according to Pepper. Pepper... she was talking to him. He shook himself from his thoughts, giving her a blank look.

"What?"

Her lip twitched, revealing her exasperation. "I'm going to get their rooms ready. What floor-"

"This one." He interrupted.

She shook her head. "The only open ones on this floor are still being renovated. We'll have to put them on the next floor."

He snapped his fingers. "Wait, no, put them on the floor with the apartments we keep for the team. There's empty quarters down there, right?"

"Tony, is that really a good idea?" Bruce asked.

"Why not?"

Pepper frowned, but moved towards the elevator anyway. "Don't do anything stupid," she called over her shoulder. "And please, please don't be rude. Hannah, tell me if he steps out of line."

Fury, who had been standing in stony silence since he and Bruce had entered the room, also bowed out at this point in the conversation, after a demand that the team meet at a certain time tomorrow, which Tony was sure to "conveniently forget".

"Oh, and Stark?" he called over his shoulder as he filed from the room. "Don't stop the damn elevator on every floor this time."

Hannah's eyes widened as the man stalked out. "Are you serious?" Her angry gaze swiveled to him "That was you? Are you kidding me?"

He gave her an unapologetic shrug. "To be fair, I didn't know you were with him."

Her lips thinned. "I'm guessing you're not a member of the Nick Fury fan club either, then."

"Not many of us are, actually. I just have more of a reason to dislike him, considering that he was part of plan 'keep my kid the hell away from me'." Tony made a mental note to find out how that had happened in the first place. He already knew that Gabe Jones was involved somehow, and it made him curious as to if the other Commandos were knowledgeable of his progeny's existence. As far as he knew, his dad could have been a part of it if Hannah had been born before his death in '91.

He didn't want to consider the possibility, his memory of Howard wasn't the best as it was. Yet he couldn't deny that there was chance his dad had known; he had found the records in his dad's office, knew that Howard had kept track of all Tony's, for lack of a politer word, conquests for a few months after their... activities, just in case Tony had gotten a girl pregnant. If Hannah had been born before his parents' accident, then surely his father had her on file somewhere.

What he couldn't understand was how this had been slipped past him. He hacked SHIELD on a daily basis, surely they had something on Hannah that should have alarmed him, and if not him, then Jarvis. But no flags had been raised, and Tony was going to find out how it had happened. She was a Stark, after all, surely she would have garnered some kind of attention through the years, enough to warrant someone to at least look into her. Sure, SHIELD was known for the ability to make people fall off the face of the earth, but something still seemed off to him.

You didn't make someone as high-profile as a Stark disappear.

* * *

Everyone, at some point in their lives, had a childlike urge to pitch a fit. Even adults had such impulses, not that they acted on them often, if at all. Hannah, however, was seriously considering giving into hers, to throw a tantrum that would put Angelica Pickles to shame.

She felt hurt, angry, that someone was playing with her life, using her for a pawn in their game. She hated it, the lies, the manipulation, the feeling that she was just a means to an end, a piece that was moved when deemed most beneficial to the player.

She wasn't sure who was moving the pieces, but she knew that the succession of events was too close together to be a simple coincidence. Only a week ago had she found out that Stark was her father, and now she was sitting in front of him. That didn't happen by mere "coincidence". Someone had tipped Pepper off, and then called Tony when Hannah hadn't acted on the knowledge that she was likely part Stark. And she knew from her earlier conversation with Stark that it had been Gabe.

Hannah wanted to call him and ask him exactly what right he had to meddle in her life as he had. There were so many things he had kept from her, things she had spent months, years even, trying to find out. He had known she was a twin, aborted, adopted, the wife of a SHIELD agent, the daughter of Tony Stark... he had known all these things for years, yet he never came forward.

He had kept his mouth shut, had let her give up hope of ever finding her father when her mother said she had no idea who Hannah shared the other half of her DNA with. And then, when she was finally coming to terms with the circumstances of her birth, he had decided that she deserved to know her father was the son of his old war buddy and had gotten the ball rolling by giving the red-haired CEO of Stark Industries a ring.

And as if she didn't have enough issues on her plate, SHIELD had decided to add more to the pile, making the decision of meeting her father for her by dragging her to New York.

She briefly entertained the idea that SHIELD's involvement was also Gabe's doing. Had there been someone doing a sweep for her, or was it a hoax, a plot to get her involved with Stark when neither she nor he acted on the knowledge that they were father and daughter? Hannah shook her head. No, that wasn't right. Gabe wouldn't have sent the head of SHIELD to personally bring her to New York, a job that could have been done by a number of the lackeys in SHIELD's hire. He would have been more likely to send Diego or Trip, knowing that Hannah was comfortable with them. Which meant that someone was really looking for her.

Hannah felt like she had on her first day of school: small, overwhelmed and frightened by the massive change ahead of her.

Was it truly only a week ago that she had been unremarkable, just another run-of-the-mill single mother trying to do what was best for her children? It seemed like such a short time had passed, too short for the many rapid, life-changing things that had happened. But here she was, in one of the most high-tech buildings in the world under the guise of being in a secure location, sitting in front of her biological father who just so happened to be the owner of said building.

She was beyond relieved when Stark had dropped into thoughtful silence, the conversation dying. The other man in the room, she guessed that he had followed the billionaire from the elevator earlier, seemed content to keep to himself, only sending the occasional curious glance her way. When she caught him mid-glance he gave her a smile that was almost a wince, his intelligent brown eyes sympathetic. Hannah would have laughed at the close grimace if she hadn't wanted to cry so badly.

Pepper chose that moment to return, surveying her fiancé's expression before giving them quiet instructions to their rooms. Truman scooped Milo up, careful not to wake him, and carried him into the elevator, his sister trailing behind him.

"Well, that was, uh, not what I expected," he said as they began the trip several floors down.

"What? Did you expect us to kiss and make up?" Hannah retorted grumpily. "Act like we've known each other for years?"

Truman gave her an offended look. "Of course not. I just thought that maybe you would have more to say to each other than two sentences."

"There's not much to say, T." She rubbed her arms, staving off the goosebumps that rose from the elevator's chill air. "And it was more than two sentences."

"We spent twenty minutes in silence. _Twenty minutes_."

"So?"

Truman shook his head. "Hannah, you're going to have to interact with him at some point, you're living in his tower."

"I'm not living here. This is... temporary." She frowned. "I hope."

Truman scrubbed his hand across his face. "Look, all I'm saying is that at some point you're going to have to say more than a few words to him. He's your dad, Hannah, he's going to want to at least talk to you, if not bond with you and form a relationship."

"No, he's not."

"Sis, he looked really upset when he talked about you being kept from him. Whether you continue to deny it or not, the guy obviously feels something for you."

"Truman, did you not see his face when he thought Milo was his kid? He looked horrified."

"He went pale. That's not horrified, that's terrified. There's a difference. I think anyone would have gone pale if they just found out they were a father without any warning. Heck, most dads I've met faint when they see their kid for the first time, and they've had nine months to get acquainted with the idea! Considering that, I think Stark did okay when he saw you."

Hannah gave a weak smile. "There's a difference between watching your child be born, and walking into your living room to find a grown woman."

"See, I think that's even scarier. Can you imagine if you had no idea that Milo had been born and then some odd twenty years later he shows up? You would have no idea that someone shared your DNA, and then poof! suddenly you're a parent." He paused for emphasis, letting his words sink in. "Hannah, you've gotta remember that you're not the only one who's having a hard time with this. Stark, Ms. Potts, Milo, they're going to have some trouble working through this, too. Look at it from Ms. Potts view: she was engaged a month ago and now suddenly there could be a possible step-daughter in the picture. That's got to be hard on her. And Milo, he's going to be waking up in a completely different environment. He's a kid, they don't understand things like this easily. I know this feels like spring break all over again, but you aren't the only one affected by this. Keep that in mind okay?"

She stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "I will." She wiped at her eyes. "Sorry."

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you cry."

"No, I needed that. I need to woman up and stop being selfish."

"Hannah, you're not selfish. You just need to remember to consider other people's feelings when it comes to things like this." The doors opened and Truman motioned her to exit. "Ms. Potts said that we were the two apartments on the end."

She nodded. "Did she say anything about our bags?"

"Uh, yeah, they're already in there. Do you want to take a shower before you go to bed? I can watch Milo for a bit." He glanced down. "Dang, how did he even stay asleep? He was only awake for what, half an hour of the trip here?"

"He had about an hour of sleep last night, which is part of the reason I'm so tired today. That, and he was complaining about his gums hurting so I gave him a dose of Benadryl. It probably knocked him out."

"Have you gotten that looked at? His gums?"

"The pediatrician said that he was cutting his six-year old molars early. I checked with the dentist, and they said the same."

"Oh." Truman shifted his nephew in his arms as he pointed out which door led to Hannah's rooms. "I'm on the left because apparently women are always right."

Hannah laughed softly. "Wise words, padawan. I may just have you trained by the time you're ready to get married."

He groaned. "Not you too. Mom's already been giving me heck about settling down."

She gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat as he passed into her apartments. "She just wants more grandchildren."

"Psh, yeah, well she ain't gonna get them from me. You're the one with the buns in the oven. Which you really need to tell her about by the way. The longer you wait, the harder it's going to be."

"I'll try to call her this week. I just... need a little more time."

"Alright, but if she starts threatening me with another blind date I'm going to spill the beans. Now, are you going to take a shower or just go to bed?"

"I'm going to bed." She yawned, then blinked, glancing around at the extensive interior of her new quarters. "If I can even find the bed."

"Uh," Truman squinted. "I think it's in that room."

"Do you really think that, or are you just guessing?"

"This place is a maze, I think that I'm allowed to guess," he muttered as he began opening doors at random in an attempt to locate a bedroom. He found several. "Do you want to pick a room or...?"

"No, it doesn't matter. Just lay Milo down in one of them and leave the door open, please."

"Okay."

Hannah stared at the sleek, modern looking furniture that decorated the living room. Truman found her wincing at the white couch when he returned. Keeping it white was going to be a nightmare with her messy little four-year old. "It is a little over the top, isn't it?" she asked.

"The couch itself could probably pay off both of our student loans," Truman replied wryly. "How are you expecting to keep that clean anyway?"

Hannah gave a mock shudder. "Don't give me nightmares."

"Speaking of nightmares, are we going to talk about the fact that we're apparently staying on the same floor as the Avengers?"

Hannah groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "No, no we are not."

"But we..." He held up his hands. "Wait for it... are in the same building as _Iron Man_. Let that statement sink in for a minute. Like, whoa. How insane is that?"

Hannah was unimpressed by her brother's antics. "And I'm his long-lost daughter," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms. "Let _that_ statement sink in. Like, whoa. How insane is that?" she mimicked his words with the sass of a teenage girl, bobbing her head from side to side and flipping her hair.

Truman grinned at her impersonation. "Nah, you're not as cool."

She scoffed. "Oh, please. I am so much cooler than Iron Man."

He pretended to look her up and down. "Yeah, no. My kid sister is still pretty boring."

"The kid sister concept becomes null when your sister is old enough to have kids," she pointed out.

"Nah, you're always a kid to someone."

"I'm never going to feel like an adult with you, am I?"

"Nope." He reached out to pull her hair. "You're my baby sister and a baby sister you will always be."

Hannah rolled her eyes, giving a small laugh. "Go to bed, T. You're sleep deprived."

* * *

"Jarvis, maybe don't say anything to our guests tonight. I think they've had about all they could handle, and I for one do not want Little Miss Southern Spitfire having a panic attack when she finds out that an AI runs this place," Tony said, moving to the room's floor length windows when the elevator hissed shut.

Pepper, who had originally planned on showing their company to their rooms herself, had stayed behind when she caught Tony acting out of character. She stared at him for a long moment before realizing what was different: Tony was quiet. He wasn't just quiet, the endless supply of meaningless science babble that so many were used to missing. He was subdued, something that was very rare in its occurrence. "Tony?"

He seemed to snap out of it, flashing her a smile that would have fooled anyone else. "Oh, hey, Pep."

Pepper tilted her head, eyeing him carefully. "Did everything go okay?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, everything went fine. Hey, you want a drink? 'Cause I want a drink." She held her arm out to stop him as he tried to make a beeline for the mini-bar.

"Alright, what happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Tony-"

"No, really, Pepper, nothing happened. Ask Bruce."

"Well?" She turned towards the scientist and Tony took advantage, using the chance to slip past her and towards the bar.

"I think that was the problem." Bruce pulled his glasses off, cleaning them on his tee shirt. "They only said a few sentences to each other before the conversation died."

"So, which one killed it?" Pepper joked weakly.

"Well their last words to each other were about Fury, so we can blame him." Bruce folded his glasses, slipping them into his shirt pocket. He glanced over at Tony, who was digging out a large tumbler. "It's going to be a long night, isn't it?"

"Shifts for impulse control?"

The scientist sighed. "I'll take the first."

"I'll be down here at midnight then."

Bruce turned towards her. "Are you two going to talk?"

"I have no idea." Pepper pursed her lips. "Tonight was the first time we've spoken since the night in the lab. And now that Hannah is here... well, I don't know."

* * *

Hannah decided to check her phone before she went to bed, realizing that it had been in her bags on silent. She was shocked by the number of missed calls, messages, and voice mails that popped up on the screen.

"Crap," she hissed, swiping through them. Danielle, Gabe, her parents, even Trip and Diego had tried calling her. She quickly hit Danielle's name, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. The phone was answered before the second ring, Danielle's panicked voice filtering through.

" _Hannah? Hannah is that you? Are you safe_?"

"Yes? Yes, I'm safe. I-"

" _Hannah, if you're being forced to say that, the safe-word is the very first thing I said to you when we met_."

"What? No, Danielle, I'm perfectly fine. What's going on?"

" _What's going on? **What's going on**_?"

Danielle was sobbing on the other line, increasing her worry. "Danielle?"

" _Hang on, I have to tell the others. Diego! Diego, call Pop! Yes, she's on the phone right now. She's okay._ "

"Danielle, I need to know what's going on...? You're freaking me out."

" _Good, maybe you'll know how I've felt the past few hours! I called to see if you wanted to go out for dinner after Fury left but you didn't answer. And when I stopped by your house you were gone, but the car was still there. No one knew where you had gone, no one could get in touch with you, and no one saw you leave. Stupid SHIELD won't tell us what's going on, acted like they didn't know what we were talking about. They wouldn't even tell Pop what was going on. Worst case scenario, we thought you and Milo had been kidnapped or worse and it was being kept under wraps. Where the heck are you?_ "

Hannah was frozen, her chest tight. "You... you thought..."

Danielle was adamant that she answer. " _Where are you, Hannah?_ "

"I'm in New York, in Stark Tower."

" _What?! When I talked to you this morning you said your plans for the day were hugging the toilet and sobbing your way through Old Yeller with Milo. **Not** traveling halfway across the country to meet the father that you were so adamant about **not** meeting_!"

Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, Dee, I didn't mean to freak everyone out. Cyclops hauled me up here under the excuse of a "national threat"."

When her friend spoke again she sounded somewhat calmer, but still slightly frantic judging by the slight shrill in her tone. " _National threat? And this involves you how?_ "

"Something stupid about how I can be used as an incentive against Stark."

" _Did he say why he decided to make a move now?_ "

"Danielle, can I ask you a question? And please answer it honestly?"

" _If it's to help you explain, then sure_ _._ "

"Does your grandfather know about SHIELD bringing me to New York?"

" _What are you suggesting, Hannah?_ "

"I just... I need to know."

" _No, he didn't, he was as freaked out by this as the rest of us. Why?_ "

"I thought that maybe Fury was lying about the threat as a favor to Gabe, to force me into involvement with Stark since I had refused to meet with him. But now... I'm not sure what Fury would gain by lying."

" _What did he tell you?_ "

"That someone's doing a sweep for me, that they were taking this serious enough to move me to a secure location."

Danielle was silent for a long moment. " _I'll get Pops to look into it. Keep your phone on you, he'll probably call tonight to talk to you_."

"What do you think about it?"

" _Do you want my honest opinion?_ "

"Yes."

 _"Something stinks about this whole thing. Things are happening too fast. I think if Fury told you that someone's searching for you, it's serious. He's usually not that forthcoming with information, and like I said earlier today, he never comes in person unless something big is happening._ "

"And you think that that something is happening?"

" _The Colonel likes to keep his dealings with Stark to a minimum. If he brought you to the Tower, he's pretty shaken up by something. There are dozens of safe houses that you could have gone to, but he brought you to New York to place you with the Avengers. Tell me something's not off about that_."

"He said there was a leak in SHIELD."

" _Most of the safe houses are on a roster, it would make sense that he wouldn't take any chances with one of them if there's a leak_." Danielle sounded worried. " _I'll warn Diego and Trip to be more careful. If there's a mole in SHIELD, they're good. The agency does extensive background checks on everyone in its employment, even the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, heck, probably even the agent's twice-removed cousins. Be careful, Hannah. Don't leave without anyone, and don't leave with anyone that's not been approved by Fury."_

Hannah's phone began to vibrate in her hand. She pulled it away from her ear, glancing at the screen. "Hey, your Pops is beeping in."

" _I'll let you talk to him then. Oh, you might want to call your parents and brother. I um, called them to tell them you were missing to see if they knew anything. Your parents didn't know anything, and Truman didn't answer his phone. Diego called them to let your mom and dad know that you're alright, but they're going to want an explanation. My hubby didn't really go into details. And you might want to check on your brother, he's still not answering his phone. If I know him though, he's going to lose his crap when he sees all the messages I sent out_."

Hannah groaned. "Great. I was hoping to put off the conversation with my parents until tomorrow. At least Truman already knows."

" _Truman knows? And yet you couldn't find the time to call me_?"

Hannah held the phone away from her ear. "Truman came to my house this afternoon, he got there a few minutes before Fury appeared. Speaking of which, does that man have something against knocking on the door like a normal person?"

Danielle laughed. " _I'll let you talk to Pops. Call me tomorrow, okay? And good luck with your parents. I hope you don't get the " 'splain'n to do' lecture_."

"You and me both." She swapped calls, taking a deep breath.

" _Hannah?"_ the gravelly voice inquired.

"Gabe."

* * *

 **Wow. Guys, you have blown me away. I may or may not have freaked a little bit when I saw that I had _34 followers and 20 favorites_ on the first two chapters! Like, holy cow! I was not expecting it to garner such a response! Thank you so much! And an especial thanks to _MWolfe13_ , _yatogod1_ , _YouAndIKTK_ , _doutlesslover223_ , _Sam0728_ , _TimeTravelManiac_ , and the Guest! You guys are the reason that I was motivated enough to finish writing this chapter!**

 **And I know that the meeting of father and daughter probably wasn't some of you expected or wanted, but I didn't write it like that for no reason, I promise. You'll get it in the next chapter, I hope.**

 **Happy Holidays everyone!**

 **-P &S**


	4. Agitation

**Piper: Hey guys, I'm so sorry about the long wait! I had hard time getting this chapter to behave and I've had a lot come up in my life that had to be taken care of before I could post again. As a form of my apologies, this is the longest chapter so far, double the length of the first few. Enjoy and drop a review if you have time!**

 **Oh, and also, this doesn't have any Tony/Hannah interactions, it's just setting things up for the chapter. Sorry if that disappoints anyone, but this was such a long chapter that I had to cut it in half.**

* * *

 _Danielle laughed. "I'll let you talk to Pops. Call me tomorrow, okay? And good luck with your parents. I hope you don't get the " 'splain'n to do' lecture."_

 _"You and me both." She swapped calls, taking a deep breath._

 _"Hannah?" The gravelly voice inquired._

 _"Gabe."_

* * *

Hannah sat through Gabe's questioning with harried patience, anxious as she waited for the opportunity to ask her own.

Where was she? Stark Towers, New York, as much as she wished otherwise.

With who? Tony Stark, the man who apparently donated half of her DNA. She was pretty ticked off about it too. Because seriously, out of the other how many million millennials in the US, how was she the one who ended up being Stark's progeny? People expected enough of her as it was without adding the expectation of being a Stark.

Why was she with him? Because the cycloptic pirate dragged her here.

And finally, did she even stop to consider that perhaps the Nick Fury who had appeared in her home could have been a clever fake? When she had to stop and think for a moment on that one Gabe had thrown a fit.

" _Hannah Avery Claire Lawson! You didn't_!"

She pulled the phone away from her ear, quickly moving away from the bedroom that held Milo so she could raise her own voice without waking him up. "Gabe, calm down!"

" _Calm down? CALM DOWN? You left your house with a man whose identity you didn't even know and you tell me to calm down_?"

"But it WAS the real Nick Fury, okay? I'm alive, and I'm safe," she argued.

" _I don't think you appreciate the seriousness of this, Hannah. You went missing and none of us would have been the wiser if Danielle hadn't stopped by to see you. For all we knew, you were kidnapped or worse! What you did was dangerous. You had no back up._ "

"Truman has been with me the entire time."

" _And do you think that was a good precaution? Do you really think Truman would have been able to stop someone who had wanted to harm you_?"

Hannah paused, thinking of her nerdy, borderline-shy brother and wished Gabe wasn't right.

"He would have done his best." She felt a smidgen of guilt that she couldn't come up with a better answer than that. Truman was her big brother, he was always doing his best to look out for her. But she wasn't dumb enough to think he could protect her from everything.

" _The man is afraid of spiders. **SPIDERS**._"

"I'm afraid of spiders," she replied staunchly. And there was that guilt again. She really needed to work on her comebacks.

" _Yes, but I've never heard YOU scream that loud before_."

She winced, recalling the episode that involved teenage Trip, Diego, Danielle, and Truman in a tarantula exhibit. Trip had slipped a goliath tarantula down Truman's pants while Danielle distracted Truman and Diego distracted the zoo keeper. It hadn't ended well, and after the series of events that followed the incident, the four had been banned from the zoo. It was only thanks to Gabe that Hannah was still allowed in-the zookeepers were a bit wary of anyone who had been with their group that day.

"Oh."

" _Yes, 'Oh'_ ," Gabe muttered sarcastically. "T _he point is, Hannah, going to New York was dangerous. Even if you had proof that it WAS Nick, it was still dangerous._ "

She raked a hand over her face, pushing fly away strands of hair back into place. "I thought you trusted Fury."

" _There is a large difference between respecting someone and trusting them. I may trust Fury when it comes to the security of this nation, but not when it's your life on the line. If it was for the "greater good", the man wouldn't hesitate in throwing you to the metaphorical sharks_."

"Yeah, I kind of got that impression, too."

" _Then why did you think it was a good idea to leave with him_?"

"I didn't. I just…"

" _You just what?_ "

"I thought my kids were in danger, okay! Someone is out there looking for me and I wasn't going to take chances! I am responsible for the lives of my children, and I wasn't going to let someone try to hurt them just to get to me! I'm vulnerable enough without being pregnant, now I'm little more than a sitting duck."

Silence.

"Gabe?"

" _Tell me everything Fury told you, Hannah. Every. Single. Thing_."

So, she did. She told him everything, beginning with how Fury had appeared in her home without notice or invitation, how someone was supposedly out there doing a sweep for her, and how she had been hauled to New York instead of a SHIELD safe-house because Fury suspected that there was a mole in the agency.

" _Hannah, you listen to me and you listen **good** , alright_?"

Something in his tone was dangerous. It made her spine straighten and run cold with chills as she pressed the phone closer to her ear.

"I'm listening."

" _You do not leave that tower for any reason until someone gives you the okay. And even then, I don't want you stepping out of it unless you absolutely have to. And when you have to, bring someone with you. Milo and Truman don't count, it needs to be someone with training. Am I clear_?"

"Yes, sir."

" _Good_."

Hannah was confused. But mostly, she was afraid. Because Gabe was afraid. That in itself was enough to make her think carefully before she decided it was a good idea to leave. He was one of her childhood heroes, someone she looked up to. To a little girl, he was invincible. To an adult, he was borderline fearless. Very few things could frighten him. And if this was one of those things…

"Gabe, what's going on?"

" _I don't know_." Her stomach sank at his admission. " _Hannah, why did Fury suspect a mole_?"

"He... he said that SHIELD had been the one's deflecting the attention away from me."

Gabe gave a short laugh. " _It was a heck of a job too. You never made it easy on any of us, kiddo_."

Hannah smiled weakly as she moved to sit on the couch her and Truman had bantered about earlier. "Wouldn't be me if I did. Anyway, he said that whoever was searching for me... they had enough information to do a worldwide sweep."

The quiet was deafening.

" _I take back what I said earlier. Don't leave that tower without an Avenger_."

"Gabe, what are you not telling me?" She was no longer afraid, she was terrified. Being in the dark only made it worse.

" _Your files were kept on hard copy for the sole purpose of keeping them off SHIELD servers. Not many people can hack them, but it has happened in the past_ ," Gabe began.

"Exactly how many files do I have?"

" _Two. One was found in Howard's office. The other I have_."

"Wait, if you have one, then where is the other one? The one from Stark's office?"

" _I don't know. When I passed it off to Fury, it was being kept in a secure facility_."

"Obviously you should have held onto it, seeing as his secure facility isn't very secure."

Gabe sighed. " _That's what has me so concerned. It IS a secure facility: almost a ghost facility. Kept off file and from most of SHIELD. Those who know about it are at least level seven, and they're only made aware on a need-to-know basis._ "

Hannah guessed that level seven must have been pretty up there, and she was proven correct as Gabe let it slip that most of the Avengers were level six.

"So, whoever leaked my information has a clearance level that's above the Avengers." She sank back into the couch, closing her eyes. "Which means that it's one of SHIELD's higher-ups. Shouldn't that narrow the search down?"

" _You would think. But whoever it is, they're good enough to have gone unnoticed for this long. Anyone who is that skilled, not only in remaining below the radar but also passing the background checks without raising any red flags, is likely also skilled enough to access the facility without having the right clearance. That alone means that it could be almost anyone in SHIELD_."

She frowned, twisting the wedding band on her finger. "Is there any way that someone could find out about me without accessing the files? You only found me after nine years. That's almost a decade long opening for someone else to do the same."

The more Hannah thought about it, the more discomfiting it was that Gabe had just "happened" to find her. It made her realize that someone could have been pulling strings even back then. The chills returned as the idea played through her mind.

"Gabe, if there was a mole in SHIELD, then why would they risk their position by leaking information that would launch a manhunt large enough to garner the attention of the agency they were hiding in? And if they did access files that they weren't supposed to, then why am I the only one they're hunting for? A person as "skilled" as you made it sound wouldn't have slipped up this big, not without a reason."

" _You think they wanted Fury to realize that there was a leak_?"

"It would make sense, wouldn't it? Everything is happening too fast. Someone's playing chess, and I don't think it's Fury," she said, voicing her earlier thoughts. "There's too many coincidences, too many discrepancies. First you call Potts, then Stark. SHIELD showing up on my doorstep because I'm "a threat to national security", Fury finding a leak that was revealed at JUST the right moment so that he's suddenly leery of all safe-houses on SHIELD's roster… Gabe, this doesn't feel right. This feels… planned. It's… It's almost like this goes deeper than this week. Like I'm a puzzle piece to someone else's big picture. It doesn't feel accidental anymore. Nothing does."

" _Is that a gut feeling_?"

"It is."

" _Then follow it. We'll figure this out, I promise_."

It wasn't that easy, though, was it? If this went deeper than they thought, if this was more than one person within SHIELD, then it was going to be hell to weed them out. And if she was right, and there had been someone puppeteering her life all this time, then the chances of that being true were high.

She swallowed thickly. "And if we don't?"

" _Then our priority is to keep you safe and out of harm's way. I'll get some people on this, talk to Fury and find out what's going on in SHIELD right now_."

"I'm going to be in New York a long time, aren't I?"

" _Looks that way. But if it gets too much, any of it, we'll make other arrangements, Fury be darned_."

"Gabe, if we can't—"

" _We will_."

"But if we can't…"

" _Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Worrying isn't going to help anything—the stress isn't good for you, and it certainly isn't good for those babies. Just stay where you are and you'll be safe._ " He sighed. " _You weren't supposed to get mixed up with SHIELD and their agendas. I didn't want that for my kids and grandkids, and I certainly didn't want it for you either_."

Hannah was well aware of the Jones family dynamics; Trip following in his grandfather's footsteps had always been a sore spot with Gabe, and she berated herself now for being stupid enough to think that Gabe would willingly work with SHIELD to bring her to New York.

"I thought you had something to do with this at first," she admitted softly. "I know now that you didn't, Danielle set me straight on that one, but when I heard that you called them… I assumed the worse."

" _With the way it looked, I don't blame you._ "

Pause.

"Gabe, why DID you call them?"

It took him several minutes to formulate an answer, so long in fact, that she had to glance at her phone screen to be sure he hadn't hung up.

" _I wanted you to know_."

"And you had to let me find out by _Pepper Potts_? You couldn't even give me a heads up?"

" _Look, Hannah, I didn't know what to say, or how to say it_."

"If all you wanted was for me to know, then why did you call Stark? Even after you found out from Danielle that I didn't want to meet him?"

" _He had as much a right to know he had a daughter as you had a right to know you had a father. Tony doesn't have any blood family left. Just you. He deserved to know that there was still someone out there for him_."

"Gabe, I can't be what he needs me to be, whatever that is."

" _Hannah, he's an idiot, billionaire, genius who can get into more trouble than he's worth—which is several billion, so definitely a lot of trouble—but he's still human. I think all he needs is for you to give him a chance, to be yourself and not hold him responsible for what happened to you_."

He had hit the nail on the head. And Hannah wasn't sure that she liked what he was implying, even if he was right. Because she had, subconsciously, placed a part of the blame on Stark. In her mind, her mother would have never aborted her had she had someone to support her. But then, hadn't her mother made is abundantly clear that she wouldn't have kept her anyway? That babies would have come between her and her college degree?

"I can't promise anything."

" _Promise you'll try._ "

Gabe knew she took promises seriously. So when she quietly said that she wasn't sure she could do that, he sighed. "At least promise that you will try to try."

"I'll try to try to try. How's that?"

" _I think THAT was a poor attempt at confusing me. But I'll take it. Now, I have a Colonel to chat with._ "

"He doesn't seem like a very chatty person."

" _I have a secret weapon_ ," Gabe replied confidently.

"Oh really? And just what is this secret weapon?"

" _Peggy Carter. That woman is ninety years old, yet she still makes Fury quake in his boots._ "

Hannah laughed, glad that the conversation had turned somewhat lighter. "If any of the stories you told me were true, I have no doubt that she does."

Gabe had told them numerous stories of the woman, and she remembered all too well how often she and Danielle had argued over who got to be "Kick-Butt Carter" when they played together during their summer stays with Danielle's grandparents.

" _Of course they were true_!" Gabe said defensively. " _Every one of them_!"

Hannah couldn't help but be somewhat skeptical. "So, what I'm hearing is that Peggy Carter really did push Howard Stark out of a plane because he kept making cracks about her hair?"

" _He was wearing a parachute, it's not like it would have killed him_." She could almost see his shrug, and suddenly she felt very glad to be alive. When she said as much, Gabe began to laugh loudly.

"Y _ou don't know the half of it, kid_."

"I know. Between the insanity of your war buddies and Tony Stark, it's a miracle I'm here."

" _Hey now, Dugan was the insane one: he just drove us insane with him_."

"Sure he did."

" _I hear that snarky tone! You better watch it_!"

Hannah sniggered. "Or what? You'll find a switch and start calling me a young whippersnapper?"

" _I'm ninety-four, I think I'm allowed to sound as old as I look_ ," he grumbled, causing her to laugh harder. " _Just get some sleep, kid._ "

She smiled into the phone. "Alright. Good night, Gabe."

" _Good night_."

After she had said her goodbyes, she sent a quick text to her parents, asking them not to worry and promising that would give them a call in the next few days to explain why Danielle had called them in a panic. She then slipped into a pair of sweatpants and into the bed where Milo lay, pulling him closer to her. She rested her chin in his soft hair, closing her eyes. She would get through this, she would cope, if it would keep Milo and the twins safe. She just had to take things day by day.

* * *

"Do you know how hard it is to find someone who doesn't tell you their last name?"

Bruce glanced up from his book, giving Tony an odd look. "Are you… stalking your daughter?"

Tony tapped away at his Stark phone. "Not stalking, researching."

Bruce shook his head. Why was he surprised? He should have known that the man was up to something when he had only had the one glass of scotch instead of his usual number. "That's the same thing, Tony."

"Up, up, up!" Tony pointed a silencing finger at Bruce. "I know nothing about her, therefore it's research." Something pinged. "Well, actually, I now know her full name is Hannah Avery Claire Lawson…gee, poor kid has two middle names, and she lives in..." He squinted at the screen. "…Wilmington, North Carolina."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Should I even bother to ask how you found that out?"

He gave the scientist a shrug. "I traced Pepper's phone signal from last week. She was here—" He flipped the device around to show Bruce an address and a picture of a house. "—for about an hour. And as the owner of the house is named as a certain Hannah Lawson, according to Allstate, I'm assuming that it's the same woman who is now a few floors below us." Tony frowned. "She needs better insurance—Allstate sucks.

"Allstate does not—" Bruce paused. "Wait, did you _hack_ into an insurance company?"

"No."

"Did _Jarvis_ hack into an insurance company?"

"…Yes."

Bruce shut his book with a groan. So much for impulse control. He sent a covert glance at Tony, who was still absorbed in his "researching", before sending Pepper a quick text update.

 _ **B: No life-threatening ideas, no end-the-world inventions, no drinking save for the scotch earlier.**_

 _ **P: Then what IS he doing?**_

 _ **B: Stalking and hacking into insurance companies.**_

 _ **P: I'll be down in a minute.**_

"Don't you think looking at her insurance is a little… invasive?" he asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"Well, considering that I also found her medical history, no, not really."

"Don't read it," Pepper interrupted as she entered the room wearing a stressed look. "Her medical history. There's some things in it that she needs to tell you herself—if she decides you need to know at all."

Tony sent Bruce a look of mock-indignation. "You snitched on me, didn't you?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, deciding that it would be better not to reply.

"I'm sure you can find out more about her without resulting to hacking insurance companies," Pepper lectured. "Social media? Newspaper articles?" she suggested.

Tony shrugged. "Maybe, but SHIELD did a good job shoving things under the rug. There's next to nothing on the internet—no pictures, no link to any social media accounts… nothing. That shot down facial recognition, since the other option was faster. Though, I didn't think of the local newspapers… Jarvis, expand your search to all the local school papers, the gazette, whatever you can find that's local to Wilmington or nearby areas. Pictures would be awesome, but I'd settle for a brief mention of her name." He turned back to Pepper and Bruce. "I don't get why you two are so freaked out over this—all I did was find out where Pepper went last week by tracing her phone, and then find who owned the house with a _little bit_ of help from Jarvis. It's not like I went digging through her information—all I did was scrape the first layer so I could find her name."

Pepper glared at him. "You put a tracker in my phone!?"

He scoffed. "Please, I didn't have to. I could track an Amish person, Pepper. Tracing your phone signal from last week was child's play." Something else pinged and Tony grinned eagerly. "And that would be Jarvis finishing on the articles."

Pepper shook her head. "Tony, you need to learn to respect people's space."

"It's only articles that have already been released to the public. Again, it's not like I'm digging through confidential information… though that was VERY tempting." He shot Pepper a boyish grin. "I have more tact than you think."

"I'm sure."

"Hey! I do!"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

He scowled at her before resuming his "research".

"Bruce, I can handle it from here," Pepper said as Tony remained silent.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes. He won't stay up all night, I'll drag him off to bed after I have Jarvis lock him out."

"Uh, I can hear you!" Tony said over his shoulder.

"Good, then maybe you'll argue less," she retorted.

Bruce awkwardly slipped from the room, sending the pair anxious glances as he walked past.

"He's worried about us," Tony said as the scientist disappeared.

"So am I." Pepper moved to sit beside him on the couch.

Tony grimaced. "I'm not angry with you."

"You were."

"A little. But not anymore." He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She laid her head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of the reactor.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Pepper asked, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "About Hannah?"

Tony stilled, staring thoughtfully into space. "She's an adult—I thought she'd be a kid. But she's not, she's an adult… who has a kid of her own. My kid has a kid. Gosh."

Pepper's lips twitched. "Surprise?"

Tony snorted. "I asked her if her son was my son. Do you know how awkward that was?"

She laughed. "I was there, I know."

"Who even does that?" Tony ranted. "You know what, let's not mention this to the team. Like, ever." He didn't need to give Featherbutt any more ammo than he already had.

Pepper's expression changed to pensive as he brought up the team. "I'll need to have maintenance change the sheets and stock the kitchenettes in case they plan on staying the night tomorrow."

Tony waved off her concerns, making the point that Barton, Romanoff, and Rogers wouldn't notice if the sheets hadn't been washed since the last time they had stayed—well, Romanoff might, but the other two were men who thought clothes were clean until you hit them and dust flew out.

"Besides, freeloaders can't be choosers." Tony pulled his phone out. "Want to help me sift through Jarvis's findings?"

Pepper shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know, Tony…"

"It's not like it's personal information, Pep. Like I said, everything was already released to the public. Like this article." He passed his phone over. "Looks like she inherited my dramatics, huh?"

"Dramatics you may have, but you're a terrible actor." She skimmed the words quickly. "She graduated from Duke with a degree in Fine Arts—"

"Specializing in music and acting," Tony finished with a flourish. "At eighteen, too."

She read a bit further, frowning. "And with another degree in education. That's very impressive."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She shook her head. "It's not a bad thing. It's just… a little worrying that this was never brought to anyone's attention. How did she manage to stay out of the public eye for so long? She finished two degrees at eighteen, and is a musical prodigy—someone should have noticed her a long time ago."

Tony sobered. "That's what worrying me, too. SHIELD was undoubtedly involved, and I wouldn't be surprised if Dad's buddies had something to do with it, too." He rubbed his chin. "I don't understand though. Why go through all that trouble to keep her hidden? And why not tell me about her?"

It bothered him, that SHIELD—he assumed it had been SHIELD. Who else could it be?—had gone through such lengths to hide Hannah away from the rest of the world. Was it to keep her from him? Or was it to keep someone away from _her_? That last idea made him pause. Hadn't she been arguing with Fury about 'targets' and 'security'?

"I'll make some calls tomorrow and see if I can find anything." Pepper promised.

"And I'll be having a… talk with Fury." His eyes darkened. "What time was that meeting?"

"One o' clock."

He gave a sharp nod, standing to his feet. "That gives me enough time to talk with Hannah."

"Tony…" Pepper hesitated. "This is a big change for her, she'll probably want to take a day for herself."

His face fell. "Right."

"Maybe invite her for supper?" Pepper suggested gently as she came to stand beside him, slipping her arm around her waist. "That way she can say no if she's uncomfortable with the idea?"

He made a face. "The team will be there—I don't think she'd exactly be 'comfortable' with meeting them now."

"Then invite her to lunch." Pepper replied simply.

* * *

"MOMMA! MOMMMMMYYYY!"

Hannah woke to the unpleasant feeling of her son prying her eyelid open.

"Ugh," she grumbled, moving his hand away as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. "What is it, Milo?"

"I need to p-e-e!" he sang. "But I don't know where the bathroom is!"

Hannah groaned, dropping back into her pillow. Her son was far more chipper than people were supposed to be in the morning. "Can it wait?"

He bounced on the bed excitedly. "Nope!"

She winced, his jostling reminding her of her own full bladder. To the bathroom it was. "Okay."

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shaking the sleepy feeling from her muscles. She stopped, letting her new surroundings register. New York, Manhattan, Stark Towers, sharing a floor with Avenger's apartments, in a bedroom with a rambunctious four-year-old who apparently had to potty. Right.

She suddenly realized that she had no idea _where_ the bathroom was. Which was a very big issue as she realized just how badly she needed to use it.

"We'll check in here first. You get that door, and I'll check the other," she decided. There were three doors in the bedroom. Once you took away the door that led into the hall, that left the other two as possible bathrooms… hopefully.

"First one to find it gets to use it!" Milo informed her matter-of-factly. She narrowed her eyes playfully.

"What if I find it first?"

He looked worried at the idea, scrambling off the bed to race ahead of her and fling open the first door he came to. Which, to his immense luck, happened to be the bathroom. He turned to give her a triumphant look. "I won!"

She snapped her fingers, pretending to be defeated. "Aw, man! Maybe I'll win next time!"

He grinned back at her. "I don't think so."

"Oh really?"

"Yep! You're getting too fat to run fast!" He giggled, slamming the door behind him as he shot into the bathroom. Hannah was stunned, her mouth forming an 'o'. Did he just...?

Making a mental note to work on Milo's tact, she glanced down. "I'm not getting—" She lifted her shirt to stare at her stomach. "—or maybe I am. Darn it." It wasn't much of a bump, but it was still noticeable enough for Ms. Potts to have remarked on it, and that had been a week ago. She carded her fingers through her hair, avoiding the knots.

How exactly did you try to explain to a four-year-old that he's going to be a big brother? Mercy, she was terrible at this kind of thing. The last time she had been pregnant, she hadn't had to announce it. Everyone knew, or at least suspected, that she was pregnant when she passed up the wine at her graduation ceremony and requested water instead.

It was likely that Milo would be the easiest one to tell, even if it brought up awkward questions that Jason had been better equipped to answer. And questions there would be—all kids were curious about pregnancy and how it happened, but Milo was a little more adept at putting things together than some kids his age. But that wasn't quite what was worrying her.

She was more than aware of how it may look to some people that she was pregnant and a widow. Even Truman had asked if the twins were Jason's, and he _knew_ her well enough to know that there was no chance of it being otherwise. Already she was steeling herself for nasty looks.

And, thinking of her pregnancy, how was being in Stark Towers going to affect things? Especially if it looked like she would be here for a long time. How was she supposed to get prenatal care if she was supposed to stay in one place? And if she was here for the rest of her term, then what was going to happen once the twins decided to make their appearance?

Milo opened the bathroom door, drawing her from her thoughts. "Your turn!"

"We'll be having a conversation about that 'fat' comment when I get out, young man," she warned as she slipped past him. Milo's stricken expression had her biting back a small laugh. "You're not in trouble, kiddo, though we are going to have to address what is alright to say and what isn't."

His relief was comical. "Phew! I thought I was going to have to eat bubbles!"

She halted, turning to look at him. "Why on earth would you eat bubbles?" she asked incredulously.

"That's what Uncle Truman had to do when his mouth got him in trouble."

A picture was slowly forming in her mind. "Did he? And who told you that?"

"Grandma."

Hannah was suddenly very curious as to what had led to such a conversation. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah! Cause he said a bad word!"

"Did Grandma tell you that as a story, or did she actually wash his mouth out while you were there?" The idea of a grown man getting his mouth washed out made her laugh

"She didn't wash his mouth out! She put soap in his tea!" he giggled.

Hannah smiled. "Well, next time Uncle Truman says a bad word and Grandma's not there, tell him that he has to put a dollar in Mommy's swear jar, okay?"

Milo nodded. "Okay."

Hannah shook her head as she continued into the bathroom. She was having a talk with her brother about his 'bad words' when she saw him again.

* * *

"Can we have blueberry pancakes?" Milo asked.

"Keep eating so many blueberries and you'll turn blue," Hannah teased. "Now hold still and let me brush your hair."

"But I like it messy!"

"You like everything messy," she smirked, smoothing his hair down. She scowled at a stubborn cowlick.

"That's 'cause messy things are funner!"

"More fun, Milo. 'Funner' isn't a word." She turned on the faucet, wetting her fingers.

He made a face as he felt the cold water from her hand seep into his scalp. "It should be a word."

"I know a lot of people who think the same thing. I think that 'frindle' should be a word, but it isn't."

"What's a friedel?"

"Frindle," she corrected. "It's a funny way of saying pen. I'll have to read you the book one day so you can understand it." She set the hairbrush down on the counter, viewing her handiwork. The cowlick still stood proudly but she managed to ignore it, deciding it wasn't worth the hassle. "I think that's good enough, don't you?"

Milo's answer was an enthusiastic head bob. "Yep! Can we eat breakfast now?"

* * *

The cabinets were empty of food, as was the fridge. And apparently their stomachs, if the rumbling was anything to go by.

"Great," she grumbled. "Just my luck. What use is a kitchen if there's nothing to cook in it?"

She moved to grab a glass, wishing for what wasn't the first time since coming here that things were more kid-friendly. Was it so hard to be cheap and keep a few plastic cups on hand? Milo wasn't a bull by any means, but any parent knows that kids are a near synonym when it came to china.

"Breakfast will have to wait, buddy. There's no food here."

Milo had the look of someone whose dog had just died. "No food? But I'm STARVING!"

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Little dude, if you were starving you wouldn't be able to whine that loud."

"I'm starving!" he whispered quietly.

She rolled her eyes. "You can have a glass of water while I figure out where we're going to eat. You won't starve, I promise."

" _Ms. Potts has extended an invitation for both breakfast and luncheon, Ms. Lawson, if you would like to eat with she and Mr. Stark. If not, then you can order something from the kitchens and it will be brought to you. If you prefer cooking your own meals, however, it is only a small matter of informing me of your usual food items._ "

The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor as she gave a loud yelp. She stared at the shards with wide eyes. "Milo, don't move," she ordered. The last thing she needed now was a shard of glass to imbed itself in someone's foot.

" _I apologize for startling you. That was not my intention._ "

Too late, she thought dryly. That ship had already sailed.

" _Would you like me to send for assistance_?"

She thought for a second. "Could you send Truman, please? And tell him to wear shoes?"

" _Of course_."

Her brother was entering the room a few moment later, looking dazed. "Um, did you happen to know about the disembodied British guy? Because he just scared the crap out of me."

"Why do you think I dropped the glass?"

"Yikes." He winced, looking down for the first time. "Hang tight for a minute and I'll get a broom… Where is the broom, exactly?"

" _The small closet in the hall should contain an assortment of brooms. First door on the right._ "

"My right, or your right?" he asked jokingly.

" _I am merely a program, sir, I'm not sure I have a right._ "

Truman left to search for the closet, shaking his head and muttering under his breath about how artificial intelligence was going to take over the world.

Once he had swept most of the larger shards out of the way, he carefully picked Milo up by his underarms and carried him from the room, returning do the same with Hannah, albeit in bridal fashion. She gave him a dirty look as he complained about her weight.

"My son already informed me I'm fat this morning, I don't need confirmation from anyone else."

Truman snickered.

"Keep laughing and I'll make you eat bubbles again," she threatened with a grin.

"Milo!" Truman groaned. "We had a deal, kid!"

"Sorry! I forgots I wasn't supposed to tell!"

"Oh well," Truman sighed. "Mom would have probably told her in a year anyway."

"Breakfast?" Milo reminded them impatiently.

Hannah hesitated. "Ms. Potts invited us to eat breakfast with she and... he."

"You can call him your father, you know. It's a bit awkward otherwise," Truman said. "I mean, he is your dad, it's not going to bother me."

"I'm not calling him dad."

" _Hannah, he is your father_!" Her brother covered his mouth, doing his best Darth Vader impression. "Boom, plot twist, just like the Empire Strikes Back."

"Nerd," she said fondly. "But no, still not buying into it. He can be my father, but he's not Dad."

"'Course he isn't!" Truman scoffed. "Dad is Dad, nothing more to it!"

Milo, who was watching them carefully, put the pieces together. "We're at your daddy's house?"

Truman and Hannah both stopped short, glancing down at him in surprise. Truman rubbed the back of his neck, sending Hannah a questioning look.

She bit her lip before nodding. "Yes, I guess you could call it that."

Milo glanced around with new appreciation. "He must have lots of money."

The adults traded humorous looks, confusing him when they dissolved into laughter. He wrinkled his nose. What was so funny? He huffed when he couldn't come up with a reason for their chuckles. Grownups were weird.

* * *

 **A/N: So many thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, or added this story to their favorites. Your support is treasured more than you know. MWolfe13, Sam0728, M, OneWhoReadsTooMuch, apex-aporia, thank you for reviewing! And a special thanks to apex-aporia for pointing out a very big mistake in my writing, and also to Elizabeth Deadtree, who gently encouraged me to continue writing when I wanted to quit. Thank you for your advice and kind words.**

 **If anyone would like to give me ideas, scenes, or characters you would like to see, let me know! And if you happen on a mistake, please inform me so i can fix it. I think that I got most of them from this chapter, but if you see anything that doesn't make sense, let me know. I'm young and still learning, so thoughts or suggestions are greatly appreciated.**


	5. Obscurity

Breakfast that morning had been one of the most painfully awkward experiences Hannah had had since she had graduated college. It was obvious after a few minutes that she and Stark had no idea what to say to one another, and that neither of them were going to be the first to say something. Hannah had been okay with that, more than okay, actually, if it meant that uncomfortable questions could be avoided.

And, as her unlucky luck would have it, it was when she reached such a conclusion that Milo realized who was eating breakfast with them.

"Hey! You're Iron Man!"

Tony looked down at the tike, who was fidgeting excitedly in his seat. "Yep. And you're Milo, right?"

Milo began to tug excitedly on Hannah's sleeve. "Mom! He knew my name!"

She gave him a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Milo turned to Truman when he didn't get the reaction he was hoping for. "He knew my name!"

Truman played along, giving a surprised gasp that seemed to satisfy him.

Hannah felt a meager amount of panic as Milo's tongue poked into his cheek, a sure sign that he was thinking, putting things together.

"Why are you eating breakfast with us?" he asked after a few seconds of quiet.

"I'm hungry," Tony deadpanned.

Milo shook his head. "No, I know _why_ you're eating. But why are you eating with us?"

Tony set his fork down, leaning forward. "What makes you ask that?"

The boy's nose wrinkled. "'Cause you're a superhero."

"And?"

"Superheroes are busy, right? They have to save the world and stuff?"

"Ah, well," Tony said slowly. "Even superheroes have off-days when the world isn't in danger."

Milo nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He picked at his muffin, tugging small flecks of walnuts from the top. He took a cautious nibble before spitting the bite back onto his plate. "Yuck!" Hannah winced, while Tony gave a slow grin. This kid was gold.

"Banana Nut not for you, huh?"

Milo gave the muffin a miffed look. " _Blah._ Blueberries are better."

"Can't argue there." Tony shrugged. "So, tell me, kid, since we're talking superheroes, who's your favorite?"

Milo's eyes lit up. "Captain—"

"America," Tony finished with a groan. "Of course it would be."

"No way!" Milo argued with a scowl. "Captain Carrothead is my favorite!"

Tony gave a blank stare. "Who?"

Milo's finger pointed at Truman. "Captain Carrothead!"

"Oh, your dad?"

Hannah choked on her milk, spluttering as Truman reached over to slap her back. "Ouch, lay off!" she croaked. "I'm fine!"

"Really? 'Cause you were a few seconds from choking on your own spit."

"It was milk, idiot, not spit."

"Well, it had spit in it after being in your mouth, so it kinda was spit."

"And it was also 'kinda' milk"

Pepper took the two's distraction as a chance to fill Tony in. "Tony, that's her brother."

The billionaire blinked once. He blinked twice. "Twins? Her mother had _twins_ and no one cared to inform me?"

Hannah and Truman halted their banter. "Adoptive brother," Pepper hastened to add quickly, before the situation could get any more harrier.

"So, no twins?"

"I had a brother," Hannah's quiet voice spoke. "But our birth was… traumatic. He… well, he's not here, so I assume you can put the pieces together." She stared at her lap before abruptly standing. "Excuse me for a moment."

Tony watched her go, a hollow feeling beginning to well up inside his chest as he cursed himself for again saying the wrong thing. He just couldn't get it right, could he? The meager amount of progress he felt he had made with this new aspect of his family had returned to square one. He tamped down the feelings of loss and hurt, distancing himself from the emotions that rose with the new knowledge of his deceased son. Those would have to be dealt with another day, preferably a day when he was alone and not sober.

"Pepper, can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked as he pushed his chair away from the table. His voice was strained as he struggled with his thoughts. "In the living room?"

Pepper politely inquired if Truman would be alright by himself for a few moments (with Milo, of course) before she followed her fiancé away from the table.

As they entered the living room, Tony pulled her aside. "Is there anything else I need to know before I talk to Hannah and apologize?" he said urgently. "I would like to have at least one conversation with her without shoving my foot into my mouth."

Pepper made a sympathetic wince. "To be honest, I was not expecting that subject to come up."

"Yeah, well it did. And now I need to fix it, so can you please fill me in on anything that is taboo?"

"Like I said last night, she needs to tell you some things herself."

"Look, she wants to keep some things to herself, that's fine, I get it. But I need to know what topics to avoid. I don't want to walk into this in the dark." he argued. "I need some help here, Pepper."

Pepper was pleasantly surprised, glad even, that he was earnestly attempting to make things right and build a relationship with his daughter. Not that she expected anything less of him, but Tony was known for keeping his emotions shrouded under a veil of rudeness, sarcasm, and narcissism. That she could easily read him in this situation meant that he was genuine, extremely so.

"The Incident, her twin, her birth mother, and her husband are things to avoid for certain. I'm sure there're more of them, but if you steer clear of those, you should be okay. If she should initiate the conversation, that's different, but no prying. If you're curious, ask me or her brother. I have a feeling Truman wants to help your relationship along best he can."

He gently pecked her cheek. "Thanks, Pep."

* * *

"Hey, you okay?"

Hannah grimaced. He had followed her? What part of "Excuse me for a moment" did he not understand?

"Hello? Hannah?" He moved closer until he was at her side, staring at the city of concrete and metal stretched below them.

"I'm fine," she replied shortly.

"Really?"

"I said I'm fine." Did the man not take hints?

"Look, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. I didn't—"

"I'm not mad at you."

"But—"

"I'm not _mad_ _at_ _you._ " she stressed. "No one told you, you didn't know. Not your fault, forget about it."

"I am sorry, though."

She rolled her eyes. "I forgive you."

"Sorry for assuming."

"Again, I forgive you."

"And I'm sorry about last night, too."

"What?"

"Uh, last night? You know, how everything was really awkward and everything that came out of my mouth was just _wrong_?"

She began to laugh. "You mean when you mistook Milo for your son? I thought that was hilarious."

He grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, that wasn't embarrassing at all."

A reluctant grin crept onto her face. "Don't worry about it. It just made you a little less intimidating to me."

"And that's a good thing?"

She made a scoffing noise in the back of her throat. "Do you have any idea just how intimidating it was to meet you? You're a colossal public figure, a celebrity. That in itself is terrifying. The idea that you're my father? That's freaking me out."

"Yeah, well it's not a walk in the park on my end either. I just found out that you exist." He looked older for a moment, his face set in hard, sad lines. "I missed a lot, huh? Your birth, your graduation, your wedding, being there for the birth of my first grandchild. I missed you growing up, had no idea you were even out there until a few days ago."

"You didn't miss much, if that makes you feel better," she said. "The wedding, I mean. Jason and I kind of… eloped?"

Tony blinked at her. "Wait. You _eloped_?" He shook his head. "Doesn't change that I missed it."

Hannah shrugged. "Just thought it might make you feel better that my parents missed it, too."

"And what about the other things? If you missed Milo's birth? If you missed raising him, loving him, spoiling him, watching him grow, would you feel like you didn't miss much?"

"No," she said vehemently. It dawned on her, the purpose behind his question, the unspoken words it revealed.

 _Then you can understand how I feel._

"Point is, we're both new to this," Tony continued. "And I can understand if you want nothing to do with me. But I want everything to do with you, and I don't say that lightly. But it's your decision.

She was silent as she stared at him, watching, waiting. For what, she wasn't even sure herself. Maybe for him to take it back, to realize that she wasn't worth it, that her own mother had thought she wasn't worth it. But he didn't. He returned her stare with one of his own, eyes careful and calculating. Just like hers.

"I have to think about it," she decided. "And I think you need to, too."

"Already have. Since the day Gabe called me."

She nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners as she thought. "There's a lot of… baggage."

"I'll pay the best movers," he said, winking at her.

"Not what I meant."

The humor in his eyes died. "I know what you meant."

"Mr. Stark—"

"Whoa, hang on." He held his hand up. "Please, for the love of my already precarious sanity, don't call me Mr. Stark. A: that was my dad, and B: it sounds ridiculous for my kid to call me Mr. Stark. I'm not expecting you to call me "Dad" or anything, I think that would be uncomfortable for the both of us at this point. You can call me Tony, or just Stark if you're not comfortable with a first name basis yet."

It was like he read her mind, she thought, visibly relieved that he understood her uncertainties and qualms about what to call him.

"Tony, then." Chilly, she rubbed her arms. "I—"

"Do you want a drink?"

"What?"

"A drink? Before we dive into the pool of emotional issues? Scotch, champagne, wine, beer? What do you drink?"

Hannah stared at him, torn between confusion and amusement at his ramblings. "It's nine in the morning," she said incredulously.

"So?"

She was giving him an odd look. "No, I'm good. Actually, I'm just going to go back and eat…" She pointed behind her, in the vague direction of the kitchen, with her thumb. "Um… yeah. I'll just go now."

"Tell Pepper I'll be there in a minute!" he called after her.

* * *

Hannah learned a few things during breakfast. One, the disembodied voice from earlier was Jarvis, an AI that Tony had programmed himself. Two, the smell of eggs nauseated her, which was new. And three, Milo was faster at putting things together than she had originally thought. Which she should have guessed as he stared curiously at Tony when the man entered the room.

"Is there a reason you're burning holes in my head, kid?" he asked after a few awkward seconds.

Milo's nose crinkled. "I'm not calling you grandpa."

The table grew quiet as everyone stopped to look at him.

Truman scrambled to defend himself. "I didn't say anything!"

"I didn't even look at you!" Hannah huffed. She turned to Milo, softening her voice. "So, what gave it away, Sherlock? How'd you know it was him?"

He grinned up at her. "I'm right? Cool!"

Hannah returned his grin with a wry smile. "Yes, you're right. Now spill it, Smarty-Pants."

"We're in New York, 'cause that's the Chrysler Building—" Here he pointed out the window. "—I saw it on the news a few weeks ago! And I can see Central Park from here! Stark Towers is in New York, next to the Chrysler Building and Ms. Pepper works there, and she's the one who wanted you to meet your dad, and she's here! And you said this is your dad's house, so that must mean that he's your dad! Plus, you look like him."

"Wow," Hannah said after a long moment of sorting out his detailed explanation. "Aren't you quite the detective?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out, Mama."

"Yeah, I'm seeing that now." Sometimes it still weirded her out, how beyond his years Milo was at times. Though, she thought, any four year old who could build a robot with a few odd household items was bound to be ahead of the curve. Or several curves.

"How old is he again?" Tony asked, smirking.

"Four."

"And a half!" Milo interjected proudly. "Don't forget the half, Mommy!"

"Four and a half then," she corrected with a minuscule laugh.

"Have you had him tested?" Tony asked suddenly.

"Tested for…?"

"His IQ. For that matter, have you ever had yours tested?"

"Neither of us have."

"Want to do it today?"

"I guess… Why are we doing it though?"

Tony ignored her question, focusing on her agreement instead. "Great! Come down to the lab at 11:00; Jarvis will remind you." He stood and hurried from the room without another word.

Hannah turned to Pepper. "Is he always like that?"

"Only for the past ten years I've known him."

"Oh, fun," she said dryly.

* * *

Hannah returned to her apartments as soon as breakfast ended, Pepper having to leave the Tower on business. She found herself grateful for Jarvis, who guided her back to the correct floor, saving her the embarrassment of asking for help. After sending Milo with Truman for a few hours—she wasn't going to argue when he offered, not with the way she felt at the moment—she took a quick shower and then sat down to call her parents.

" _Hannah_?"

"Hi, mom."

" _Thank you, God,_ " she heard her mom whisper. " _Are you okay? Are you safe? We didn't know what to think when Danielle—_ "

"Yeah, mom, I'm safe. As for being okay… well, that's a little harder to explain."

" _Is this about Jason_?"

"Uh, in part. Is dad around? I'd rather only explain myself once."

" _Ben, honey? Hannah's on the phone!_ "

Her dad's voice soon filled her ear. " _Hannah?_ "

"Hey, dad. Um, listen, I've got something to tell you guys."

" _Go ahead, kiddo._ "

"You know what, let me just Facetime you." She quickly swapped the call over, and her parents worried faces soon filled the screen. "So, uh, I have some good news?"

" _You sure it's good news_?" her father asked. " _You don't sound so sure_."

"No, it's good news. I'm just…" she took a deep breath. "I'm just scared."

" _Scared of what_?"

"I'm a single mom, mom."

" _I know, honey_."

"And I'm pregnant," she blurted. "With twins. And I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now."

Shocked faces stared back at her.

" _Can you repeat that, please_?"

"I'm _pregnant_. As in I have two little people growing inside me right now. And I'm freaking out."

" _Are they Jason's? **Ouch**_!" Her father, whose mind seemed to run on the same frequency as Truman's, had received a loud smack to the back of his head, courtesy of his wife, Donna.

" _Benjamin Phillips_!"

" _What? I have to ask! She's just now calling us, after all_!"

Hannah couldn't fight down the smile on her lips. She laughed quietly. "Truman asked the same thing. I'm three months today, though, dad. Since you're oh-so curious."

" _Thanks for clearing that up_ ," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. " _Did you have to hit me so hard_?" he asked his wife.

" _I thought you wouldn't feel it since you're so insensitive this morning_ ," she quipped. " _Why on earth would you make such a comment_?"

He winced. " _You're not going to let me forget that anytime soon, are you_?"

" _Not until you apologize_."

He sighed. " _Sorry, Hannah_."

"It's okay, dad."

" _No, it's not_!" her mom interjected. " _We're going to buy him an honest to goodness filter soon, since his seems to be malfunctioning again_."

"It can't malfunction if he never had it in the first place," Hannah reasoned with a small smirk.

He crooked a finger at her, trying to look stern. " _Hey, no teaming up on me. I'm a social Neanderthal, I know. You don't have to remind me_."

Hannah ducked her head to hide her smile.

" _If you need anything, call us_ ," Ben said. " _Though I'm sure you know that already_."

"I do, but it's nice to have the reminder."

" _We'll make arrangements to come down sometime this week_ ," Donna promised. " _We'll even stay in a hotel instead of the guestroom_."

"Actually, that's the other thing I wanted to talk about." She moved to one of the large floor-to-ceiling windows the living room proudly sported, flipping the camera around so they could see the wide expanse of city skyline in front of her. "I'm not exactly at home right now."

Ben squinted at the screen. " _Where **are** you_?"

"Well…"

" _Is that the Chrysler building? Are you in NEW YORK_?"

"It's… a long story."

" _Sweetheart, is this about getting closure_?" her mother asked softly. " _Jason's not there anymore, baby_."

"No, no that doesn't have anything to do with it!" Hannah felt tears welling and wished that she wasn't always such an emotional mess. But tough luck, she told herself, because the damage was already done. She just had to suck it up and keep going, especially now that there were THREE little people depending on her.

" _Hannah_ …"

Hannah bit her lip. "Do you guys remember when Jason helped me find my birth mother?"

Ben's eyes hardened. The memory wasn't a fond one: Hannah's relationship with her parents had almost all but deteriorated in the span of those few days. Thankfully, it had been repaired, but that was a time Ben could do with out remembering. " _Yeah, you came home with your heart broken because she turned you away_."

" _But that was in Mobile_ ," Donna said. " _And you're in New York_."

"I know. Uh, my biological father contacted me a week or two ago. Well, his fiancée did. And then the government got involved and decided to ship me here because apparently they won't take 'no' for an answer when I'm a 'threat to national security', and—"

" _Whoa, whoa! Slow down for a second. Take a deep breath_." She did as her mom ordered, realizing that she had been on the verge of a panic attack. " _There, that's better. Now, why did the government get involved_?"

"I'm wanted by terrorist organizations."

" _That's ridiculous_!"

"Yeah, well, not really. Turns out the donor of half my genetic material is a big deal in the political scheme of things."

" _Do we know his name_?"

Hannah's made a face. "I don't know. Have you heard of Iron Man? Avenger, billionaire, genius, playboy? The last one definitely explains how I got here. In his tower, and my existence in general."

The blood drained from her mother's face, while her dad only made the simple comment of, " _Well, that explains a lot about you_."

Hannah gave him a stony look. "Dad, that's not funny."

" _Sorry_."

" _Is he treating you right_?" Donna queried.

"I got here last night, but so far he's… not at all what I expected. He… he almost acts like he cares."

" _I'm sure he does_."

"But—"

" _Look, he'd be an idiot not to care for you_ ," Ben interrupted. " _You get into people's heads and hearts quickly, even when it's unintentional: it's just how you've always been. If he doesn't care now, he will soon_."

"I think you're a bit bias, but I'll take your word for it," Hannah smiled. "Thanks guys. I'll keep you updated."

" _You do that. Oh, and Hannah_?"

"Yeah?"

" _Kathy's been trying to contact us. We haven't answered, but she's left several messages. She's trying to get in touch with you_." The dislike in his voice wasn't missed.

Hannah groaned. "I know. I've been trying to ignore the issue."

" _Does she know you're pregnant_?"

"Heavens, no! And I wouldn't tell her either—she thinks I can't support Milo, much less two more babies."

" _She's still bothering you about that_?"

"She was, until I blocked her a few days ago. She was threatening to call social services if I didn't move in with her."

" _That's blackmail_!"

"Yeah, well, I don't think she cares, dad. She moves in higher circles, remember? Politician's wife? She can probably make a good case against me without any evidence." Hannah shuddered at the idea. "Which I hope she doesn't do—I want my kids as far away from her as possible. I don't care if she's Jason's mom or not, I don't want them under her influence in any way."

" _Maybe it's a good thing you're in New York, then. Stark has good lawyers, right? In case she presses the issue_?"

"I'm sure. But I don't want to bother him with this; he might think I'm just using him for his resources."

" _Hannah, when it comes to your children, I'm sure he would understand. They're his grandkids, too, not just ours anymore. Good grief, that sounds so weird: I share grandkids with Iron Man_."

Hannah shook her head. "Tell me about it—he's my biological father. It's beyond weird. I mean, half the girls in my high school and college courses thought he was hot." Her nose scrunched. "I'm increasingly glad that I paid attention to my studies instead of drooling over magazines that had him on the cover. Ugh, can you imagine how much more awkward this entire thing would be if I had had a crush on him when I was younger?"

Ben began laughing at her expression. " _How awkward is it already_?"

"He thought Milo was his kid, if that tells you anything."

" _Oh no_ ," Donna said as she too began to laugh. " _What did you do_?"

Hannah shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure I remember. Last night was a little stressful."

Donna gave a sympathetic smile. " _I'm sure it'll get better_."

"I hope so."

" _Take a few days to yourself, if you need to_." She suddenly grinned. " _You keep my grandbabies safe and healthy, and do the same for yourself, okay_?"

Hannah smiled. "I will. You know, it's funny: Truman thinks that me having twins will buy him more time."

Ben didn't understand the inside joke, but Donna laughed long and loud for several seconds. " _He wishes_."

"He's with me, by the way. He came to visit and ended up being dragged along for the ride."

" _Good, that makes me feel a little better. Tell him and my grandson that we love them, alright_?"

"I will."

" _We love you, too_ ," Ben added. " _Keep us updated, okay_?"

"I will. And I love you guys, too."

" _Alright, see you later_."

"Bye."

The phone beeped, signifying the end of their conversation. She moved her legs so that she was laying on the couch, then closed her eyes. Milo would be back in another hour, and then they would head down to Tony's lab around eleven. Which meant if she wanted a nap, it would have to be taken now.

* * *

Milo loved the lab. He ran from one machine to the other, and Hannah was in a frenzy trying to keep up with him. Tony reassured her that most of the more dangerous equipment had been moved and locked out of the four-year-old's reach, but she was still a nervous wreck anytime her son reached out to touch something.

"Hey, kid, want to see something cool?"

The alarm bells that went off in Hannah's head were loud enough for the man to raise an eyebrow in her direction. Or maybe it was just the alarm written all over her face. Likely the latter.

"Whoa, calm down, Momma Bear! It's not anything dangerous. Well, nothing that'd be dangerous to him."

"That does nothing to reassure me," Hannah grumbled. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Contrary to how the media paints me, I do have common sense sometimes. I wouldn't leave anything out that he could get hurt with."

"Sorry," she apologized. "Just… being here makes me nervous."

"I know, it's all over your face. Try to relax, would you? You're making me feel weird."

Hannah blew out a long breath. "Sorry. It's not intentional."

"Nah, it's okay. It'd probably be weird anyway." He turned his attention to Milo. "You want to do something fun?"

Milo tilted his head to the side. "What?"

"Oh, I don't know… maybe take a look at the suit with me?"

Milo's eyes got big. "Really?"

"Why not? I might even let you touch it."

"Awesome!" he cheered, pumping his small fist in the air.

"But you've got to do something for me first, okay?"

Milo nodded. "Okay."

"Great, here." Tony passed him a Stark pad. "Jarvis will tell you what to do, okay? When you're finished, bring it to me. Can you do that?"

"Yep!" Milo eagerly dove into the assignment and was soon distracted by whatever was on the device's screen.

"I don't think—" Hannah began.

"It'll be powered down," Tony quickly promised, knowing what she was trying to bring up. "It's just a metal suit without the arc reactor inside it."

"What's a—"

"The night light in my chest. Come on, don't tell you haven't noticed."

Hannah let her eyes drop to the eerie light for but a second before she nervously glanced elsewhere. "It's inside you?" she asked in a small voice.

He pulled the collar of his t-shirt down to show her the reactor. "It's not the most healthy thing to have in your chest cavity but it's keeping me alive, which is better than the alternative. It's powering an electromagnet that keeps shrapnel from shredding my heart."

From her earlier body language (when she found out it was in his chest) he expected her to recoil from the sight. But instead she stared at it curiously, if not a bit mournfully. "That's keeping you alive?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep."

"That's crazy. And scary. So if someone removed it you would—"

"Go into cardiac arrest and die, yes."

Something about the way he said it caused her to glance up at him, meeting his eye.

"Did someone actually try to kill you that way?"

He gave a small nod. "Yeah, but that's a story for another time. If you ever want to hear it, that is." He had a sort of wistful smile on his face as he glanced at her. "Remind me to tell you of Yinsen when you have the time."

"I'm done!" Milo sang then, bringing an end to their conversation as he returned the Stark pad to Tony.

Tony tapped at a few things before throwing Hannah a wide, snarky grin. "Congrats, it's a genius."

Hannah let out a quiet laugh, giving Milo a large hug as he grinned boyishly up at her.

"You want to take a go at it now?" Tony asked.

She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Nah, I think I'm good."

"Really? You don't want to know if you carry the Stark Smarts?" He made a ridiculous show of pushing a pair of invisible glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We're all mad here."

Her lip quirked, which he counted as a small victory. "I'm beginning to think the females of your bloodline are carriers of whatever gene gives you guys big heads; I really don't think I have a genius intellect. But thanks for the offer."

Tony shrugged. "Sure. Hey, you want to eat supper with us tonight? The team will be there."

"I really don't think I'm ready for that. But again, thank you for the offer."

"Tell Jarvis if you need anything. Literally, anything. I'll even hand you a credit card if you need it."

She shook her head. "I don't think I can take your money. I feel like enough of a freeloader as it is—I'm not paying for anything, and it feels WEIRD."

"You really like the word 'weird', don't you?"

"Well, it describes my life at the moment."

He chuckled. "Yeah, mine too." He paused, then continued. "Don't worry about being a freeloader. You didn't have much of a choice in coming here, so at the very least you shouldn't have to pay for anything. In fact, SHIELD should probably be compensating you for the inconvenience they're causing. And really, if you need something, let me know. I think I can afford it."

She gave a hesitant smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Tony."

He didn't tell her that he had already paid off her house, her minivan, her student loans, and her medical bills—which were surprisingly plentiful for such a healthy-looking young woman. He even paid for the funeral expenses that had popped up in the search Jarvis had led. It wasn't a stretch to believe that the funeral was for her husband, and it made his heart ache to see that the dates the charges were made coincided with the cleanup that followed the Battle of New York. He'd have to check with Pepper, but he was ninety-eight percent sure that his guess was right and that Hannah had lost her husband earlier that May. It even fit with the taboos Pepper had given him earlier.

* * *

The Avengers, save for Natasha and Thor, were assembled. For a board meeting. A very boring board meeting that had yet to start, as Fury remained absent.

"Where's our resident spider?" Tony asked coolly as he swaggered into the room.

"She's on a mission," Clint replied evenly, propping his feet on the table. "She should be back tomorrow, so don't get comfortable."

Tony rolled his eyes. The women of the Tower, Natasha and Pepper, had a bad habit of keeping him on his toes. Hannah was likely to join in the mix now (not that she hadn't already) depending on the situation and the length of her stay.

"Anybody know why Fury called us in?" Steve inquired, leaning his arm against the table so he could brace his chin in his hand.

"I do," Clint chorused, giving the other men a questioning look. "Either of you two science monkeys want to share with the class, or should I?"

Tony gawped. "How did you know?"

He shrugged. "When Jones called Pepper, she wanted proof that hadn't had the chance to be tampered with. So she sent me to get it. Where do you think the sample Bruce tested came from?"

"Jones?" Steve asked.

"Same one you're thinking of. Wait, how exactly did you get a sample of her DNA?"

"Her?"

Clint ignored Steve. "I stole her hairbrush and toothbrush," he admitted sheepishly. "She likely noticed, but I wasn't willing to invade too much on her privacy."

"Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" Steve interrupted. "Who are we talking about?"

"My daughter."

Steve blinked before shaking his head. "That's surprisingly unsurprising."

Tony scowled at him. "Anyway, SHIELD and Cap's war buddies decided that her existence wasn't something I should be made aware of. I found out a few days ago when Gabe finally decided to come forward. I assume that's the reason Fury called us here, to discuss why exactly he decided to place her in the Tower."

"She's here?" Clint's feet dropped from the table as he straightened in his chair. "Since when?"

"Since last night. And she's not very happy about it." Tony ran a hand over his goatee. "I'm eighty percent certain that she wants nothing to do with me."

"Do you know why?"

"I don't know, Cap, if you were given up by your own mother, how would you feel about your biological parents?" Tony said snippily.

"Sore spot?" the Captain guessed with a wry look.

"No kidding." Clint crossed his arms. "Let me guess, she thinks she was abandoned?"

"She was, by her mother. Pepper filled me in a few minutes ago." Tony sat heavily in a seat. "And she's newly widowed, apparently. Has a little four-year old without a dad."

The already solemn mood deepened in its sobriety. Clint and Steve knew what life was like without a father, as did Bruce and Tony, who—for all intents and purposes—didn't view their male parent as a true father.

"What happened?" Bruce asked.

"New York."

No one needed to ask what he meant by that. The words left a sour taste in his mouth and a sourer mood in the room. It was a reminder to all of them that, as much as they wanted to forget what had happened that spring, they couldn't. Where there was tragedy, casualty was not far behind. And where the two walked hand in hand, there were always scarring reminders left in their wake.

Fury walked in then, bringing an abrupt end to their conversation. He tossed a file on the table, a dull thud echoing through the room.

"I'm only going say this once, so shut up and listen. We've got a leak in SHIELD."

"How bad?" Clint asked, lazily balancing a knife on his finger. There were always leaks in SHIELD and, more often than not, the agency used that to their own gain, taking the classical saying of "keep friends close and enemies closer" seriously. Most of the leaks were intentional, used to send false information to undermine the enemy. The issue was when they didn't know _who_ the leaks were. Which rarely ever happened. In fact, if Clint was recalling correctly, there had only been one or two unintentional leaks over the past fifteen years.

"I don't know."

The archer paused in his balancing act, setting the knife aside. "Okay, so worse than I thought."

Fury sent Clint an unimpressed look. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that going in blind always turns out worse than you first thought. I went in blind on a mission, I came out blind in one eye. You don't walk out of something like that the same as you walked in."

"So we walk into this, we don't walk out the same." Steve said slowly.

"If we walk in blind. Which is why I need all the help I can get. Barton, Cap, listen to the chatter in the locker rooms, tell Romanoff to do the same. Anything that seems off, bring it to the table. Go with your gut. Stark, I need you and your AI to comb through everything in SHIELD, find out who's clean and who's not. I don't care if they've been with us for years. Everyone is checked." He nodded to the thick, overflowing manila folder, held together by straining rubber bands. "Before you go through SHIELD's server, you all need to look through that. Especially you, Stark. Be warned, you won't like what you find."

Tony leaned forward to drag the folder towards him, snapping the bands off and clapping the front against the tabletop as he opened it. He skimmed the first page before glancing up. "What is this?"

"Ms. Lawson's file, along with others, kept only on hard copy all these years. Part of the reason this leak is so concerning."

"Why is she here?" Clint asked.

"An hour after Ms. Potts left North Carolina, we intercepted a message sent out to hundreds of terrorist organizations. The Ten Rings, The Hand, H.A.M.M.E.R Industries, Oscorp, al-Qaeda, ISIS, Taliban… and that's just the beginning of the list. They were offered the information, they took it, and now they all want the same thing."

"Hannah." Tony filled in the blanks. "Because of me."

"There's a worldwide sweep going on right now. I've kept things off SHIELD's servers before—" Here Fury sent Clint a meaningful look. "—and never has enough information been leaked to start a manhunt of this size. SHIELD covers every angle to keep people under the radar when the need arises, including keeping only hard copies of important files in ghost facilities. Ms. Lawson's file was untouched in one of these facilities, if the surveillance hasn't been tampered with, which it has not."

"What makes you think the leak is in SHIELD then?" Steve asked.

"The message was sent out using SHIELD's servers. I'm sure you can put the pieces together."

"This is planned," Clint spat out, eyes flashing angrily. "They wanted you to know there was a leak. No one in their right mind blatantly declares their position as a mole, not by accident."

Fury nodded grimly. "Question is, why are they declaring their hold now?"

The room was quiet before Clint spoke again. "SHIELD's safehouses are on a roster. They wanted her at the Tower."

"Bingo."

Tony stood abruptly from his chair, pacing the length of the room as he rubbed his face. "I don't get it. Why would they want her moved to the Tower when she was so easily accessible before?"

"It's hard to use someone you don't know against you."

Tony's mouth pressed into a thin line at the Director's words.

The director nodded towards the file in front of Tony. "Read that, all of you, then give me a call. Though I doubt you'll want to see me for a few days," he added darkly.

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy: So I know I said I'd probably be back next year, but I've been feeling really down in the dumps lately and wrote this all down today as a way to vent. I'm sorry if it's horrible, really I am. I may pop in every once in awhile to say hey and leave a new chapter, but I will still be working on graduating early, so any updates will be few and far between, which I apologize for. But I figured since I already wrote this I might as well post it. I haven't really checked my account since the last post I made several weeks ago, but all the reviews I saw today warmed my heart. You guys are awesome, I hope you know how much I appreciate your comments and opinions, as well as any ideas you may have! Thank you again, so very much! Also, I'm posting this as chapter six instead of five so that any new readers who may come along will understand why updates are so spontaneous. Sorry if this cause any confusion!**


	6. Adumbration

Tony was the first to read the files. He carried the folder down to the labs (despite the protests of one Captain Rogers), ordering Jarvis to scan the files and send out copies to everyone so he wouldn't be pestered to share.

Hannah's file he put aside, knowing Pepper would disprove if he read it. He winced as he realized that it had been among those he sent to the other Avengers. Hopefully, they would just skim over it, though he doubted it. Rogers and Barton were sticklers when it came to reading reports, or files in this case, something that was no doubt drilled into them by their military backgrounds.

Fury was smart, Tony would give him that. The man was putting all of SHIELD's dirty laundry out to air before it was found. Not that it would be found as, according to Fury, the files contained in the thick folder were kept on hard copies only instead of on SHIELD servers.

He skimmed the first few pages, not finding anything of interest. He spied his father's name, the second to last file. He almost skipped past it, already having read and reread the extensive record kept on SHIELD servers. Fury needed to look at getting stronger firewalls if he wanted to keep Tony's nose out of places it probably didn't belong. Really, SHIELD's defense against cyber threats was almost laughable.

"So, dad," he said after a moment's hesitation, picking up the thick file labeled _Howard A. Stark_. "What dirty secrets of yours do they keep on hard copy?" he hummed.

* * *

Hannah felt like a mess. Which meant she probably was. Catching a glance of herself in a mirror made her shake her head. No, she was definitely a mess.

She had no hot-iron which meant her hair, while it was by no means naturally curly, had an odd, wavy flip to it that was beginning to irritate her. Which was why there was now a messy bun living at the nape of her neck. As for the bags underneath her eyes… well, she hadn't exactly had the time (or the foresight) to toss any concealer into her suitcase last night. She tried to make it a point not to wear many cosmetics—makeup was expensive, okay?—but she usually made the exception on days like these.

Her appearance hadn't bothered her much the past five years, mostly because she was too busy with other things to really care. First, it had been her marriage to Jason—she had a newfound respect for her mother after her first week "keeping house"—then it had been taking care of a newborn, Milo having come along during their first year of marriage. When he was old enough to be weaned, she took a job at a local elementary school teaching music while Danielle, who was a newlywed herself, babysat for her. Her appearance wasn't as important as keeping a rambunctious class of children calm, but she did stay neat and clean for the most part. The point was, she was never overly worried about how she looked. Her students never cared, nor did those close to her. They just accepted her for who she was.

But being _here_ made all the difference. She wasn't surrounded by the comfort of her quaint hometown anymore. She was in Stark Towers, where one of the wealthiest, most well-known men in the world lived. Everything here reeked of opulence and sophistication, something she wasn't used to with her modest upbringing.

Should she be honest with herself she would likely draw the conclusion that worrying about her appearance in such a way now meant that she was searching for acceptance. Everyone seemed so sure that Tony would welcome her, and it seemed that they were right if her earlier conversations with the man had been any indication. But Hannah still had several serious doubts about where their relationship was headed.

Her own mother hadn't wanted her or her brother and had even tried to rid her womb of them. What would make Tony any different? He had everything he could ever want: wealth, a loving fiancée, a genius intellect. He didn't need her, but he wanted her? Why would he want her, when she had nothing to offer him?

Hannah disliked her negative thoughts on the matter, wished that she could look at things optimistically, but there were far too many deep-rooted issues she had to work through before she could begin to trust that maybe believing Tony Stark _wanted_ to be her father wasn't just a blind hope. Blind hope usually ended in tragic circumstances, she knew, and she wasn't sure she was willing to trust someone with such a vulnerable part of her heart just yet.

She wasn't willing to let her heart soar, only for it to come hurtling down again. She had made that mistake far too many times in her life to do it again. This week had only proven that. Every emotion she had felt that spring break she and Jason had gone to find her birth mother had returned. The hurt of being lied to for all those years, the feeling of abandonment, the fear of never being truly wanted or loved… Everything was dragged back up to the surface when Pepper Potts first arrived on her doorstep.

And now there was this new development of Jason's "other life" as she had termed it, his life away from home and at SHIELD. Did she even know the man she had married? Or was it all a farce? Gabe had said that he couldn't have faked the devotion he had shown her, but Hannah was beginning to have her doubts. If he could lie about his work for the five years they had been married, never letting on about his double-life, couldn't he also have fudged his way into making her believe he loved her?

"Hey, Hannah?"

Hannah blinked, turning to see Truman standing next to her.

"Yeah?"

"Jarvis said we could have someone stock the kitchens in our apartments if we wanted to, or we could order take-out or from the kitchens downstairs. I don't cook, but I know you do, so I wanted to see what you wanted to do for dinner tonight?"

"Order take-out," she said. "I really don't think I'm up for cooking anything tonight."

"Okay, cool. What do you want?"

"Anything." She faltered, making a face as she realized what she had said. "Actually, no. Don't order just anything. If you order one of those pizzas with pineapple and anchovies, it won't end well."

"You used to like them!" he protested.

"Yeah, until I realized how gross it was. Plus, pizza doesn't agree with me when I'm pregnant—I found that out with Milo. If I eat it now, we'd both be wearing it an hour later." She felt a little green at the idea. She was nauseous more with the twins than she had ever been with her firstborn. "Maybe we should do Chinese instead. If you want to order pizza, that's fine, but you'll have to eat it far away from me."

She put the thoughts of Jason away for now. She was curious about his time as an agent—what woman in her position wouldn't be—but she also didn't want to dig too deep. She wasn't sure she could handle it if it did turn out that she was nothing more than a mission to Jason. He was dead and buried. Was it really worth it to ruin the sweet memories she had of their time together by digging into his life as a SHIELD agent?

* * *

Tony was almost sick on the files. He turned his head in time for the steaming bile to hit the floor, missing the trash bin by mere inches. He managed to grab it before the second round hit him, his gut roiling and chest heaving. Howard Stark's file still lay open, glaring evidence what he had previously been told of his parents' death had been false.

 _Name: Howard A. Stark_

 _Date of Birth: 08/15/1917_

 _Date of Death: 12/16/1991_

 _Cause of Death: Assassination; Staged Accident_

 _Report: Howard Anthony Stark and wife Maria Collins Carbonell-Stark were en-route to the Pentagon when the assassination occurred on Elton Vale Road, Long Island, NY. Evidence suggests that the car, a 1968 Cadillac model, lost control and crashed after the two back tires were shot out. It is likely that the Starks were not yet deceased at this time as agents found blood identified to be Stark's outside the car when Stark was found inside of it. SHIELD coroners also found both the Frontal and Occipital bones of Stark's skull had been caved in. This gives rise to the assumption that Stark crawled from the car, was beaten to death, and then replaced in the driver's seat. Coroners also found marks of strangulation surrounding Maria Stark's neck, further supporting that this was an assassination._

 _Suspects: None. The assassin was not seen, and therefore has not been apprehended._

Tony coughed at the sting of acid rising again in his throat. Accident? No, it had been an assassination. And the assassin was still out there.

* * *

Stark was a mess, the Captain noticed at dinner that night. His eyes were red-rimmed and, had Steve been able to smell alcohol on the man, he would have assumed that it was from drinking. But there was no such acrid scent on his clothes. His eyes were just bloodshot, like he had spent the afternoon letting tears wreak their havoc. And he had good reason to.

Barton was in near the same condition as Stark, though for a different reason. Ms. Potts was quiet. Banner didn't show. Not that anyone blamed the doctor. Even he felt strained tonight, after reading the files sent to him. He knew what Tony had found, what Clint had found.

Stark's parents had been murdered.

And Agent Coulson was alive.

His trust in Fury, what little existed, was shaken. The man was an expert manipulator, and manipulated them he had. Yes, they had come together in the end. Yes, they had saved New York and the world from an alien invasion. But they had also grieved for Coulson. All of them carried guilt over his death, no matter how misplaced it may have been. They had been too distracted, too caught up in their petty fights to take care of the true threat, and Coulson had paid for it with his life.

Barton and Romanoff had been hit the hardest of those on the team, losing both a mentor and the closest thing to a father either of them had had. They lost the man who had pulled them out of their living hells, who had given them a chance to truly _live._ But Phil Coulson was no longer dead, and Barton was hurt, angry, that Coulson was alive and hadn't come forward. Romanoff was likely feeling the same way, wherever she was at the moment, if Barton had contacted her. The Captain was almost certain he had, having heard the archer mention Coulson's name several times while having a heated phone conversation with someone only a few moments before he joined the others.

While he wasn't as badly affected by what lay in the files as Stark, Romanoff, and Barton were (or would be, as he wasn't one-hundred percent sure Romanoff knew), he was still grieved to learn the circumstances of Howard's death. Would his friend still be alive were it not for the assassination? Steve didn't know.

Ms. Lawson's file had been difficult to read as well. As the surviving twin of a failed abortion at 24 weeks, it was a miracle that she had even survived. Back in his day when a baby was born that early, a coffin would have already been procured as soon as labor started.

According to the file, she still suffered the effects of being born far too early and probably would for the rest of her life. Bronchopulmonary dysplasia, seizures, multiple hip surgeries due to underdeveloped and weak joints and muscles, and acute asthma… the list went on.

He rubbed his face. There were other things in that file he wondered at, her list of living relatives being one of them. Tony's name was there, of course, but the other names listed were blacked out. It made him scratch his head in bafflement. If Fury had thought the file to be so well protected, then why had some names gone unmentioned? What else was the Director hiding? Obviously, there were some individuals listed that he didn't want the Avengers to know about. And Steve was going to find out why.

* * *

Pepper watched, a mere observer, as the others ate in a quiet, moody silence.

The Captain was solemn, his eyes filled with a knowing pain as he sent covert glances at his teammates, concerned for their well-being.

Agent Barton's eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of alcohol. Pepper didn't blame him for drinking. She was, in fact, surprised that Tony hadn't turned to the same comfort.

Tony. Her heart ached for him. There were very few times she had ever seen him shed a tear, much less weep to the point where his eyes remained red and puffy for hours after. The one time she had seen him close to such was those few days after he had returned from Afghanistan.

This was almost worse, in a way, because she didn't know what to expect. He didn't turn to alcohol this time, hadn't even touched a drop of it. Nor had he disappeared into his lab for hours at a time, building whatever invention came to his mind no matter how dangerous it was. He had instead sought her out, letting her hold him in her arms as he wept for hours. He had brought the files to her, to help her understand what had happened.

Pepper held him even tighter after reading them, her mind spinning. His parents had been murdered. She couldn't even imagine what he was feeling then. She didn't try to console him with words she knew would be useless, but instead rode out the tears and cries of grief as she held him. What could she say in such a situation? There were no right words, though she dearly wished there were.

After a time, he picked himself up, took a shower, and then appeared to eat dinner. He didn't eat much, picking at his food as he kept his head down.

Pepper took a deep breath, exhaling softly. They would weather this storm, just like they had the others that came their way in earlier years. It would get better, albeit over a lengthy period of time. And until then, and even after then, she planned to be there every step of the way.

* * *

Tony called Gabe not long after dinner, locking down his lab so he wouldn't be disturbed.

"Did you know?" he barked, forgoing any polite greeting.

" _What are we speaking of, exactly_?"

"My parents," Tony grit out. "Did you know they were assassinated?"

" _…Yes_."

"What about the others? Did they know, too?" Tony had no doubt Gabe would know exactly what "others" he was referring to.

" _They did_."

"And no one cared to, oh I don't know, tell me? Warn me even? An _assassin_ killed my parents, and no one thought to warn me that I was a possible target?"

" _You weren't a target_."

"How did they know that though?" he snarled. "They have no idea who did it, who was behind it. How could they be sure?"

" _Tony, they weren't after your parents because of who they were. They were after them because of what they had_."

"What?"

Gabe sighed. " _Tony, what do you know about your father's time in SHIELD_?"

"Not much. He helped found it, used their resources to search for Cap… invented some things here and there."

" _Did you know he_ _replicated the super soldier serum?_ "

Tony faltered. "He _replicated_ the serum?"

" _Or at least came close to it._ "

Silence filled both lines, Tony finding it hard to think for a moment. "It was in the car, wasn't it? When—when—"

" _Unfortunately_."

Tony blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "It's out there somewhere, then. An _assassin_ has access to the serum. Crap, crap, crap. What on earth made Dad think it was a good idea to transport something like that in _a car_ , with no security escort? Did no one think that through?"

" _I was retired,_ " was Gabe's half-excuse.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Some of the others were still active."

" _The others were occupied_."

"With what? What could be more important than keeping the serum out of hostile hands?"

" _They were busy keeping Hannah out of said hands_."

"I thought they didn't know about her."

" _No, I didn't know about her. I know who she is now because Dugan knew who she was_."

"How though? If her mother abandoned her—"

" _Her mother abandoned her. Her grandparents didn't: they adopted her_."

"Dad?"

Gabe chuckled. " _No, I think you would have noticed if that had happened. Her maternal grandparents_."

"Then why—"

" _Because Hannah was placed with another family after that December. Sit down, if you're not already. It's a long story_."

Tony didn't sit for most of the conversation. He paced, information logged away as soon as Gabe spoke it.

" _Hannah was born prematurely at twenty-four weeks in 1990. The age of viability then was twenty-eight weeks. She had a twin, a boy, but he didn't make it past ten minutes. He was too… damaged._ "

Tony felt his breath catch. _Damaged? What did that even mean?_

"Damaged how?"

" _Tony—_ "

"Damaged _how_?"

" _He was missing an arm. The… the procedure_ …" Gabe trailed off, the words too hard to speak.

Born prematurely. Damaged. Procedure. Missing arm... Pieces clicked suddenly, sending a growing sense of unease straight into Tony's gut.

"Aborted? They were aborted?" He sat heavily in his desk chair and buried his head in his hands, shaking. No wonder she was hesitant to involve herself with him, to let him accept her. She had likely dealt with the feeling of being unwanted her entire life. It would be hard for her to get past that, to even start to look past it.

"Why—why didn't anyone… If I knew I would have… I could have…" His thoughts were coming out of his mouth in jumbled pieces. His chest was tight; he was having trouble breathing. Panic began to claw at him. He couldn't think, coluldn't breathe. He couldn't-he couldn't-

" _Tony, it was not your fault_. _It still isn't._ "

His shoulders shook as he cried, not even caring that Gabe witnessed the pained noises through the line.

" _Tony—_ "

"Why didn't her grandparents keep her? Was she _too damaged_ for them, too? If they adopted her, why not stop the _procedure_?" he spat the words out in harsh breaths, but they left a sourness in his mouth.

" _They tried to, Tony. They wanted their grandchildren, whether you choose to believe that or not. Their daughter though… she was stubborn_."

"Why did she—" He had to stop, his voice too strained. It felt like his throat was constricting tighter and tighter with the myriad of emotions he felt.

" _She wanted out of her life, but having children would… complicate her plans. Tony, none of it was your fault_."

"But—"

" _Tony. Listen to me. It wasn't your fault_."

He shook his head. "How did she… how did she even survive?"

Gabe was silent for a long moment. " _I think that's something we need to speak of face-to-face. The important thing now, however, is that she is still very much alive. Don't think about it too much, Tony. You'll destroy yourself if you keep taking responsibility for every awful thing that happens to those around you._ "

It hit him even harder then, that he would have never known about her if she hadn't survived. She could have died like her brother, and he would have had no idea that he had had a daughter or son. He made himself breathe, though his chest ached. She hadn't died, she was here, and she was alive. That mantra kept running through his head, reminding him that it still wasn't too late, that he still had a chance at a relationship, a chance of making things right. It helped him calm enough to get through the next few minutes of conversation.

"Who is her mother?"

" _She's a successful lawyer in Mobile_."

"Gabe."

The man sighed again. " _She goes by Cindy Hastings now. Before she got away from everything, she was a Dugan_."

Tony's heart stopped. What were the chances of that happening?

"Dugan? Her maternal grandparents are…"

" _Timothy and Margaret Dugan_."

Tony was glad he had already sat down, his knees going weak. Again, what were the chances of this happening?

"Aunt Peggy's granddaughter is my… oh lord." He hit his head against the desk. "How am I still alive?"

Gabe snorted. " _From what I heard of the story, it took all of the Commandos still in SHIELD to keep her from castrating you in your sleep_."

Tony groaned. Hannah was a triple Legacy? How was that… ugh, he had trouble wrapping his head around it. "How did that even happen?"

" _I'm sure you don't need me to explain that one_."

Tony scowled at Gabe's attempt at humor. "That's not what I meant. I mean, how did I knock up a Dugan in the first place?"

" _Three words. Spring break, Mobile, and copious amounts of alcohol_."

"I think you're looking for three things. That's eight words, three things."

" _Fine, whatever. Three things then, Mr. Particular_."

Tony, while glad that the conversation had turned a bit lighter, quietly reminded Gabe that they had gotten off track.

"Why didn't Hannah stay with them?"

" _She stayed with them for almost a year, not counting the time spent in NICU. They placed her back up for adoption and had her quickly placed with another family after what happened in December._ "

"What happened in December? Come on, Gabe. We're going in circles."

Gabe grumbled under his breath. " _Hannah was kidnapped the same night your parents were assassinated. Dugan and the others were busy trying to get her back when the... assassination occurred_."

"That doesn't sound like a coincidence."

" _It wasn't_."

"Then how are the two connected?"

" _Like I said before, that's something_ better discussed _face-to-face_."

Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. "You want me to come all the way to Georgia just to talk?"

" _Hannah was supposed to come down this summer for the Legacy Reunion Barbeque. She's come with Danielle ever since the two met. It'd be a shame to end the tradition. Hint, hint._ "

Tony groaned. "When is it?"

" _August 20th. She'd be safe if she came with you—hey, you can even invite your Avengies if you want. Cap hasn't stopped by yet since they thawed him out. It might be good for him to catch up with everyone_."

Tony ignored the invitation, fixating instead on the odd nickname nickmame. "It's Avengers, not Avengies. Gosh, where did that even come from?"

" _Hannah_ ," Gabe deadpanned. " _She decided that your "boy band" as she called it needed a good band name_."

"And how did she get Avengies?"

" _I think she was listening to The Archies at the time_."

"Still, Avengies? I hope she doesn't call us that here."

He could hear the grin in Gabe's voice as the man replied, " _I'd put money on it that she does_."

If she did, Tony wanted to be in the same room for the looks the team would give her at the new moniker. He smiled for a moment, but it immediately dropped from his face as another thought occurred to him.

"Gabe, does Hannah know? That Dugan and Aunt Pegs are her grandparents?" It was an unnecessary question, he knew. Hannah hadn't known that he was her father, so how was she to know her family history?

" _No. I don't think they'd appreciate it if you told her, either. It's hard enough for them to keep her at arm's length as it is. It'd be even harder to do so if Hannah knew who they were. It's for her own safety, too, that she doesn't know who they are. Keep in mind that they had her for a year. She was_ , _and still is, precious to them, even if they have to watch her from a distance. They'd do anything to keep her safe, always have._ "

Tony was less than pleased. "Don't you think she's had enough secrets kept from her?"

" _Tony_."

"I think she needs to be told."

Gabe huffed. " _I'll talk to them, see what they think. If we're lucky, they'll agree to tell her in August_."

"If we come."

" _If you come_."

Tony hung up, setting his phone down on the desk. He stared at it, shaking his head. It seemed as though every call ended with him having more questions than before. One step forward, two steps back.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face. He would go to the barbeque, he knew already. He needed answers, and it seemed that the Commandos had them.

He turned his stare to the ceiling. He hadn't seen any of the Commandoes (Cap didn't count, obviously) since his parents' funeral. He had meant to drop in, of course, say hello to everyone, but it was always pushed back to another time. It may have been a good thing that he hadn't, now that he thought about it. He wasn't sure how he would have been received by certain individuals, even though he hadn't known about Hannah or who her mother was.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. Gabe wanted him to keep his mouth shut. But for how long? Until Pegs and Dugan were dead and buried? When Gabe was dead and buried? They were old, he knew, in their late nineties, all of them. Some, like Falsworth, were already gone. Would Gabe really have Hannah robbed of the chance to know the part of her family that had loved her—still loved her—all for the sake of keeping secrets that Tony didn't know or understand?

Tony shook his head and sighed. Gabe said he would talk to Peggy and Dugan, see if they would speak to Hannah in August. Which meant that, for such a conversation to happen, she would have to be with them at the barbeque. He snorted as he realized just how sneaky Gabe had been. Having played his cards right, the Commando knew it to be highly likely that Tony and Hannah would be at the reunion barbeque. And they would be, Tony knew. He had too many unanswered questions not to be.

Now, however, he needed to process some things so he could look Hannah in the face tomorrow, when they would hopefully be able to talk some things out.

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy: Well, I have some good news and I have some bad news. Good news is that I'm several steps closer to reaching my goal or graduating early-I've got four more classes to take before I can graduate. I also finished studying for the ACT, made really good on the ACT, and now have a full scholarship to several amazing colleges due to that studying and high score.  
**

 **The bad news? I'm not taking the summer off. So, unfortunately, that means I may not update in a long while. I feel really bad about it, and I'm terribly sorry** **! I'm taking dual-enrollment courses and they are currently kicking my butt. And I also had the _brilliant_ (please take careful note of the sarcasm) idea to volunteer at several youth camps these coming months, which means I'm going to have to bust it at the already difficult courses to stay ahead of the curve. Which means even less time to write. I apologize if my lack of frequent updates upsets anyone, really, I do. But I've realized that I am literally talking about my future here, which means that I need to turn my attention to it, buckle down, and get at it.**

 **Also, I'm really unsure about how this chapter is going to be taken. Please, please, let me know if you think it's heading in a good direction or if I should completely change the plot. I have a basic road map of how this story will end up, and the reveals that took place in this chapter are a major part of that plot, so please let me know if something doesn't sit right with you. This chapter gave me a hard time, and I'm not entirely satisfied with how it has turned out. I may feel better about it later, but I might also change it, depending on what you guys think. I'm trying my best to make sure that Hannah doesn't turn into a Mary Sue-I'm terrified of being THAT author-but I'm finding that it is hard to write a character that has a very real feel to them. I'm looking to create someone people can relate to, but as a person who a lot of people CAN'T relate to, it's rather hard to understand what most people DO relate to, if that makes any sense.**

 **These past few chapters have really just been setting everything up for the rest of the story, but I promise that we WILL get to the good stuff soon. I.E, Tony finding out Hannah's pregnant, Hannah digging more into Jason's other side of life, the Dugan and Peggy arc and why there's so many secrets surrounding Hannah... things like that.**

 **Again, please let me know what you think of this chapter, or if you have any ideas or scenes you would like to see in this story! Heck, even comment on areas I can improve!**

 **I'd also like to give my thanks to those who reviewed and answer their reviews here:**

 **padfootl0ve : I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

 **SnowCatt : I'm happy you picked up on that! It's actually going to be a big piece of Hannah's development as a character, so I'm glad you thought about/mentioned it!**

 **bookbabe711 : Yup! Every so often, but I almost always end up back at it! Thank you for the welcome! ;)**

 **Izzybug: Aw, thanks! I'm glad you get a laugh out of it! And it completly makes sense, thanks for sharing!**

 **M: You have no idea what a relief that is to hear! Thank you very much for the sweet encouragement! I promise that she will meet the Avengers and that Tony will find out she's pregnant soon! Hopefully in the next chapter, though that may take me a while to get out!**

 **Elizabeth Deadtree : I'm sorry I've made you sad! Hopefully this will cheer you up! Thank you for the well-wishes, they are very much appreciated! I apologize I'm not here as often as I would like! :(**

 **AngelElmarlienHenning : Thank you! Here's that update! Sorry it's so late in its coming!**


	7. Anxiety

Hannah was surprised when Ms. Potts politely knocked on her door early the next morning. She hadn't seen the CEO of Stark Industries since yesterday's breakfast. But, knowing she was CEO and therefore extremely busy, Hannah didn't hold it against the woman.

"Can I come in?" Pepper asked.

Hannah, still in her pajamas and feeling dreadfully inadequate next to the pristine Ms. Potts, stepped out of the doorway. "Sure."

She received a warm smile in return. "Thank you."

Hannah silently wondered why the businesswoman was here, though she didn't want to be rude and ask. The woman in question glanced around the apartment, a smile lifting her lips as she noticed the very lived in state of the living room. "I see you're settling in," she said kindly, biting back another smile as she noticed Milo sound asleep on the couch, a blanket wrapped haphazardly around him and tangled around his short legs.

Hannah followed her gaze, feeling her face heat a bit. It had been a bit of a rough night for both her and Milo, neither mother or son able to sleep more than a few hours. Milo from excitement, and Hannah… well, her dreams hadn't exactly been pleasant. They had both ended up in the living room for the rest of the night, working their way down a long Disney movie playlist Jarvis had queued up at their request. Suffice to say that the living room was a disaster, a collection of pillows and blankets scattered everywhere.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I—"

"Hannah, these are your apartments. You can keep them as messy or as clean as you want," Pepper hurried to assure her. "Though I guarantee that your messiest would be considered clean when compared to Clint's apartments. That man is only here once in a blue moon and yet his rooms look like they've been lived in for months with no cleaning."

Hannah blinked. "Who's Clint?"

"Oh, I forgot that you haven't met the team. Clint Barton is Hawkeye."

Hannah looked unsure. "…Isn't that classified information?"

"Likely. However, as you are living on the same floor as the team, I think it's only fair you get to know their names. You'll be in close quarters with them anyway, it's not like you wouldn't have known their names by the time the week was up. And, you'll need to know their names for when you have to yell at them."

"…Yell at them?"

It was hard to tell if she was joking.

"That part will become self-explanatory by the end of the week."

Hannah was still uncertain if she was being serious or not, but she nodded anyway.

Pepper folded her hands together. "Well, I just came to see if you were comfortable. If you need anything, don't hesitate to let Jarvis know. He really can take care of almost anything, and that which he cannot he refers to Tony or me."

Hannah gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Ms. Potts. I appreciate you coming to check in on us."

"You can call me Pepper if you would like." When she noticed Hannah's hesitation, she continued, "Ms. Potts seems a little too formal since we're likely to see a lot of each other."

"Do you let your co-workers call you Pepper?" Hannah asked.

"No," she smiled. "But you're not my co-worker."

There was a lull in the conversation before Hannah spoke.

"I don't get it."

Pepper frowned. "Get what?"

"I—I don't get it. How… how are you okay with this? With me? How aren't you, uh, you know… resenting me?"

Pepper understood her worry now, understood why Hannah had seemed a little distant with her. "Even if I was unwilling to have you here, you can't help that your genetics put you in danger, or the actions taken by SHIELD that brought you here. You are here because of things that are or were out of your control. How could I resent you for that?"

"But I'm Tony's—"

"Daughter," Pepper interrupted. "You're his daughter, Hannah. He's got nothing left of his family save for you and Milo and those babies you're carrying. Yes, you're not my daughter, and yes you were born from one of his many one-night stands, but I have been more than aware of the possibility that Tony had a child out there somewhere, even before the two of us entered a relationship. It's not a new concept to me, I've had time to adjust to the idea. Likely more time than you've had, to be honest."

Hannah shook her head. "Why did you do it, though? Why contact me, instead of letting sleeping dogs lie?"

Pepper's lips curved into a smile. "Tony needed you. And, I think, you may just need him, too. I know you may not want to be here, but there are people who want you to be here, myself included." Her phone rang then, and she gave Hannah an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I need to take this. Again, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask it."

Hannah thanked her, tears shining in her eyes after the woman disappeared from the apartments. She was touched by Pepper's gentle assurance that she was wanted at the Tower. In a way, it meant more coming from her than it had from Tony. Because Pepper was the one in the position to be the jealous partner. But she wasn't resentful, or jealous.

Instead, she was kind, caring, and sympathetic to Hannah's own awkward position.

Hannah didn't want to be here, she hadn't changed her mind about that. But she also wasn't as opposed to the idea as she had been before. She was more comfortable with the notion, now that she had been reassured that she wasn't unwelcome.

* * *

After Ms. Potts left, Hannah gave Jarvis a list of groceries to stock the kitchenette with and again found herself amazed at AI's competence to complete tasks quickly: the groceries made their appearance not thirty minutes after Hannah had requested them.

She quickly put them away, peeking in on Milo every so often to make sure he was okay. Thankfully, she was kept from running back and forth from kitchen to living room because there wasn't much in the way of separating the two. The apartments were designed with entertaining in mind, a long kitchen bar doubling as a half-wall between the rooms. She could easily look over the bar to see Milo in the living room, still sound asleep.

When most of the food and ingredients were squared away neatly, she turned her mind to breakfast. She softly shook Milo awake to ask him what he would like to eat. He muttered a quick reply before sleepily returning to his refuge of warm blankets to sleep a few more minutes.

He had asked for eggs, which were an easy thing to fix, no matter how much Hannah despised them now that they made her sick to her stomach. Still, they were easy to make, and it left Hannah free to pick what she wanted to eat herself without Milo the Picky Eater's opinion. She was halfway through cooking the eggs when the smell really began to bother her.

She wrinkled her nose. Ugh, she could really do without the sensitivity to smells that came with pregnancy. She tugged her shirt's neckline up over the lower portion of her face, tucking her nose inside with the hope that would help a bit with the smell. It didn't. Her stomach turned, causing her to quickly flip off the stove eye and scramble to the bathroom. She reached it without a second to spare, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Wiping her lips with the back of her hand, Hannah gagged again at the acrid taste of bile that was leftover in the back of her throat as she pressed the flush button on the toilet.

"Ugh, gross," she grumbled, moving to the sink so she could rinse out her mouth. Throwing up wasn't on her daily to-do list, though she was beginning to think it should be, seeing as she spent so much time doing it.

"I have notified Doctor Banner and Mr. Stark of your current condition. They should be here momentarily to assist you." Hannah froze at Jarvis's voice.

"That won't be necessary! I'm okay!" she called out, cringing.

"I am charged with making sure all occupants in the Tower are in the best health possible, Mrs. Lawson. My protocols will not allow me to make an exception," Jarvis said apologetically.

Hannah groaned, rubbing her forehead. She really wasn't in the mood to explain to her biological father that she was sick to her stomach because she was carrying two more of his grandchildren. She hadn't even explained her pregnancy to her own son. She needed to do that today, if possible, she reminded herself. She exited the bathroom when someone began knocking on the apartment's front door, rolling her eyes at the conversation being held behind said door as she drew close enough to hear it. She recognized Tony's voice, though there was another that was unfamiliar to her.

"Hannah? Hello? Hannah, open the door!"

"Tony, calm down, she's not dying. It's highly likely that she just has an anxious stomach from everything that's been happening," the new voice consoled.

"Han-nah! Jarvis, unlock the door."

She unlocked the door herself, opening it as well. She raised an eyebrow at Tony. "What?"

"Are you okay? I brought a doctor!"

"Tony, I'm not that kind of doctor!" a man protested from behind Tony. She recognized him from her first night here. It was highly likely, she thought, that this was the Doctor Banner Jarvis had mentioned.

"I'm fine," she said, crossing her arms as she looked back to Tony.

"Are you sure? Jarvis said you were—"

"Tony, please calm down," the other man said, stepping in front of him. He held out a hand in greeting. "Dr. Bruce Banner. I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Hannah Lawson," she replied, shaking his hand. "Thank you for coming, but I assure you I'm fine."

She didn't say it rudely, but it did come out a bit more short than she meant it to. She winced. "Sorry, that sounded more polite in my head."  
Dr. Banner rubbed the back of his head nervously before shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's alright. I'm sorry if we're invading your privacy. Jarvis said you were—"

"Upchucking?" Hannah finished for him, a wry smile twisting her lips.

He chuckled. "Yeah. I told Tony you were probably just having trouble adjusting."

"I still think we should get her checked out!" Tony protested. "First she's sick, and then everyone else is down and out, too! And I for one, do not want to spend any time hugging a toilet this week."

Bruce recognized what Tony was doing. He was sneakily trying to trick her into getting examined, covering it with the excuse of contagiousness.

Hannah glared at him. "I'm not contagious!"

Tony crossed his own arms. "Prove it."

She huffed. "What, do you want me to lick you?"

He made a face. "Ugh, no."

"Then how am I supposed to prove something like that?"

He shrugged. "Get tested for flu or something."

"Trust me, I'm not contagious."

"How do you know?"

"I just know, alright?"

"No, not alright! What if you're coming down with something?"

"I'm not. I've been having… episodes lately, is all. It's nothing, really." She winced at the lie, crossing her fingers that he wouldn't note the dead giveaway in her voice.

Tony blinked. "Episodes like… panic attacks? Nervous breakdown type thing?"

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Why not. Plenty of that goes on anyway."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I need to know if you're being serious or not, Hannah. Panic attacks aren't something to play with. They're serious signs of greater psychological issues."

She sighed. "Look, just drop it. Please. I'm not sick, I promise."

"Tony, maybe you should respect her privacy," Bruce said quietly.

"Bruce, did you read those files last night?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you?"

Bruce grimaced. "I did. Which is why I think we should respect her privacy."

"Which is why I think we shouldn't." He turned back to Hannah. "Listen, I know you're probably not very… fond… of me. But as long as you're living under the protection of my tower, you're also my responsibility. Which means that I'm responsible for your physical and psychological health. Which also means I need you to be completely honest with me about what's going on. And if you're not honest with me, at least be honest with one of the medical staff we keep on hand."

She remained unimpressed. "I'm fine."

Tony groaned. He hoped he wouldn't have to pull this card, but he needed her to cooperate. "Gabe and I talked last night. Hannah, I know you were aborted. I've done some research since then, and there was a long list of adverse effects associated with being a survivor of something like that. I want to make sure that if you do have any of those effects, they're taken care of."

She stared at him, her cheeks losing a bit of pink. "Gabe told you?"

"He did. And… I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop it."

"Would you have?"

"What?"

"Would you have stopped it? You were young, I know, not the same man you are today. Would you really have stopped it if you could have? Knowing that you would have had a burden like me on your hands for the rest of your life if you did?"

Hannah wrapped her arms around her as he took a moment to think.

"I can't promise I would have, no," he admitted at last. By her resigned look, she had expected that answer. And it stung more than he thought it would. "But if the person I am now was the person I was then, then I know I would have stopped it."

"I mean every word of it," he promised. "You're stuck with me, whether you want it or not. I'm selfish with those I care about, and you're not any different."

Hannah swallowed. He cared about her? Already? Did he know her well enough to care about her, or were those just empty words no matter his reassurances? And what kind of care was it? Was it a simple like of her, or was it a deeper, search-the-ends-of-the-earth-if-she-were-lost type of care?

"I think you've got this handled," Bruce said awkwardly, moving to shuffle away. Hannah winced. She had forgotten he'd been standing there the entire time.

"You don't have to leave," she called after him. "I'm sorry we made it awkward!"

Tony scoffed. "Please, we didn't make it awkward."

She raised an eyebrow before leaning past him and calling out again, "I'm sorry Tony made it awkward!"

* * *

Hannah held her nose as she dumped the eggs in the garbage, much to Milo's disappointment. Though, he did perk up at the promise of blueberry oatmeal as a substitute.

He was a bit too short to be sitting on the bar stool, his little legs dangling several feet off of the ground, but it helped Hannah keep an eye on him while she made his breakfast. He grinned at her as she set the bowl on the counter in front of him.

"Thanks, Mommy."

She smiled back, ruffling his hair. "Hang tight, I'll get you a drink. Is milk okay?"

He nodded.

She was half-way through pouring him a glass of milk when there was a loud click. She paused, setting the gallon jug on the counter. She recognized that sound, though it didn't match with her surroundings.

"Who are you?"

She tensed at the unfamiliar voice. "I… I'm Hannah Lawson."

"Turn around."

She slowly turned, staring at the gun in the newcomer's hand as it came into view. Her eyes slowly traced a path from the gun to the woman's startling green eyes. She swallowed thickly at their dead expression. The woman, scarlet-haired and curvaceous, stared back at her. Her expression may have been cold if it hadn't looked so bored.

Hannah swallowed, shooting a quick glance to where Milo had been a few moments ago. He wasn't there. She felt like she was going to vomit for the second time that morning. How was it possible for things to turn so sour in the span of a few minutes?

She could feel her chest tightening with anxiety, feeling her asthma flare up as well. Calm, she reminded herself. She needed to stay calm. She relaxed a tiny bit as she noticed two little hands, and then a small pair of hazel eyes, peeking around the counter's corner. Milo was okay. That small moment of reassurance shriveled and died as she realized that he was still in the room, in close range of this armed woman.

"Agent Romanoff, Mr. Stark wishes me to inform you that there will be dire consequences should you not put the firearm down in the next ten seconds," Jarvis's voice came through the speakers. "He—"

BANG!

The gun went off.

Hannah jumped. The glass in her hand slipped, spilling on her shirt and shattering into tiny pieces as it hit the floor.

Milo wailed, covering his ears and closing his eyes at the loud noise.

And Iron Man came crashing through the wall.

"ROMANOFF! PUT THE GUN DOWN!"

The woman, Romanoff, smirked and tucked the firearm away. "Calm down, Stark."

"CALM DOWN? YOU ALMOST KILLED HER!"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, I missed on purpose. If I had wanted to kill her, I would have."

Hannah took a few deep breaths, shutting her eyes tightly. Calm. She had to be calm. She belatedly realized that there were others who came in behind Tony as their worried voices began asking questions and making accusations.

"Hannah? Hannah, are you okay?" Someone was taking her hands, talking to her. She opened her eyes to see Truman staring worriedly. "Hey, can you hear me?" She could, but he almost sounded… muted. Like he was talking through a door. She understood him though, so she nodded. He looked relieved. "Do you need your inhaler?"

"No, I don't think so."

He frowned at her. "I'd feel better if you used it. You sound like you're wheezing a bit."

"I'll go get it in a minute, then," she sighed.

He glanced down, then back up hurriedly, his face hot. "Uh, you might want to do it now, so you can, uh, change too."

Hannah looked down, humiliated by what she saw. Her shirt was drenched and sheer from the milk being spilled, clinging to her like a leech. She shut her eyes again. Great. Just… great.

"Take Milo to your room, please. Just until I'm finished," she asked as she slipped away from him. She heard Tony ask where she was going, Truman quietly explaining to him that she was going to change.

She felt her cheeks heat as the other men in the room, two of whom she hadn't been introduced to, politely turned their gazes elsewhere as she passed. She hurried past them, biting her lip as tears welled.

 _Calm. Stay calm. Don't cry, not in front of them. Stay calm._

* * *

Tony glared at Natasha as Hannah disappeared. "What is wrong with you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb, Romanoff. Why did you point a gun at her? She's here because it's supposed to be safer."

She shifted, crossing her arms. "Fury tasked me with evaluating her. Since she'll be living in the same vicinity as the team, he wanted to know how she would handle high-risk situations." She frowned. "We'll have to work with her on that. She didn't fail, but she didn't pass with flying colors either."

"This was a test?" Steve scowled. "Are you kidding me?"

Natasha shrugged. "It needed to be done. She'll have to go through worse evaluations than this if she's going to be living here."

Tony shook his head. "Uh-uh. No. She already doesn't want to be here, I'm not adding to that."

"She needs to be prepared," Natasha argued. "She can't do that if you hedge her in and keep anything from happening to her."

"She needs to feel comfortable here! Which is not going to happen if your so-called "evaluations" are anything like this one was, or worse!"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please, it wasn't that bad. She handled herself better than most people do when they have a gun pointed at their face."

"Sir," Jarvis interrupted, "I believe Mrs. Lawson is in need of some assistance. My vital sensors are showing that she is having a severe panic attack."

"I take it back about handling it better," Natasha snarked as Tony took off in the direction Hannah disappeared to, Bruce trailing behind him.

"Not the time, Romanoff," Steve grit out.

* * *

Once she reached her room, Hannah dug her inhaler out of her bag, tossing it on the bed as she pulled out a t-shirt as well. She quickly slipped into the clean top, tossing the soaked one in the connected bathroom's sink. The adrenaline pumping through her from her body's natural fight or flight response was wearing off, leaving her feeling shaky and drained, as well as more than aware of the piece of glass stuck in the sole of her foot.

She winced, curling her foot up behind her so she could look at the damage. She shut her eyes. Dang it, why did things always hurt worse once you saw them? She sat on the edge of the bathtub, carefully trying to fish the piece of glass out with her fingers. She couldn't.

Hannah covered her eyes and struggled again not to cry. This morning officially sucked. Worse than Alexander's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day could have ever sucked. And it was only nine-thirty.

She took a careful breath, exhaling softly. It was okay, she told herself quietly. Breathe in, breathe out. She tried one more time to remove the glass.

"Ow, ow, ow," she hissed through her teeth, feeling like her fingers were blindly probing the open cut rather than moving informatively. She finally removed the sliver, biting her lip as a small amount of blood pooled down the tub's side. Her stomach fluttered nauseatingly at the crimson staining both the tile and her hands.

It could have been worse, she thought. It could have been a gun wound instead of a simple cut. Her eyes squeezed shut as she stopped blocking out what had happened. She had been shot at. With Milo in the same room. Oh god. What if it hadn't of turned out the way it had? What if that Romanoff woman had missed at missing? What if the bullet had actually hit her? Would the babies have been okay?

Hannah felt her stomach clench. The babies. Were they still okay? Were they the strong flutters she felt? Were they distressed? Stress wasn't good for them, after all, what if they weren't okay? Her breathing quickened as she struggled to remain calm. Deep breaths, Hannah. Come on, deep breaths.

It was getting hard to breathe. She tried keeping a tight leash on her panic as she stood carefully to her feet. It didn't work well. She should have grabbed her inhaler instead of tossing it on the bed, she realized as her chest began to ache.

" _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. Crying makes it worse_." The thought ran laps in through her mind as tears began pricking at her eyes. " _Get the inhaler. Get Truman. He'll know what to do. Calm down, calm down, calm down!_ "

Vertigo hit her as she moved from the bathroom into the bedroom, causing her to lean against the doorframe for a moment.

"Mrs. Lawson, are you in need of assistance? My sensors are showing you are distressed."

Jarvis sounded muffled. It was the same sensation she had had earlier when Truman was speaking to her, understanding the words but feeling as though they were spoken through water, muted. It felt like she was blocking him out, though it wasn't voluntary.

She didn't see her inhaler, just a mess of blankets on the bed. Her panic became worse as she dug through them, making it harder for her to think straight. She sat heavily on the bed and buried her face in her hands as her chest felt like a steel band squeezed tighter and tighter around it. Her wheezing worsened. She needed that inhaler.

"Hannah. Hannah, look at me." Tony was in front of her, grabbing her arm and attention. "No, no, hey, stay awake. Focus on me, alright? Carrots said you had an inhaler? Do you know where it's at? No, don't talk. Just nod or shake your head."

She shook her head, coughing as she struggled to draw breath.

"Alright. Alright, okay, uh... asthma. Who has—" He stopped mid-thought, then looked over his shoulder at someone. "Bruce, go get Cap! He used to have asthma, right? Hurry! Jarvis, have the med team on hand if you haven't already. Tell them it's an asthma attack."

Black blurred at Hannah's eyes. She was drowning, swimming through muddled senses as spots danced across her eyesight.

"Hey, no, no! Stay awake, Hannah. Stay awake!"

* * *

Hannah stared at the ceiling. Blinked. Blinked again. Where was she?

An uncomfortable feeling scratched at the back of her throat. She lifted her hand to her face, wincing as she felt the plastic of what she assumed was an endotracheal tube. Wasn't her day just turning out to be fun?

She gagged as she slowly pulled it out of her nose, unable to stand the friction. Someone held a bucket underneath her as she leaned over the bed and emptied her stomach.

"Dang it, Hannah! You weren't supposed to take that out!"

Truman was holding the bucket from where he sat next to the bed. She gave him a weak smile as he realized too late what she had done. "It itched," she said half-heartedly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, huffing. "It was helping you breathe."

"My lungs are helping me breathe."

"Not earlier, they weren't," he grumbled, fixing her with a worried look. "You scared the crap out of me, you know?"

"I scared the crap out of me, too." She settled deeper into the uncomfortable pillow underneath her head. The smell of bleach stung at her eyes, mixed with a citrus scent. The smell reminded her of many less than fond memories of occasions similar to this one, as well as clueing her into the fact that she was in a medical facility of sorts. You know, if the breathing tube shoved down her throat wasn't enough.

"Where's Milo?"

"He's with Pepper. She said she has nieces and nephews, so she's not completely clueless when it comes to kids. I figured she was a better bet than the resident billionaire."

She sat up, then winced as she grabbed her head. "Ugh, what'd they give me?"

Truman grimaced. "That, would either be from where your blood sugar bottomed out or you're feeling the effects of an epi-pen and whatever they gave you for sedation."

She looked at him. "An… epi-pen? Really? I mean, I can see how it might work, but... an epi-pen?"

He shrugged. "Well, it was an emergency. They couldn't find your inhaler, and by the time they did, you were already unresponsive. So… yeah, epi-pen."

Hannah frowned. "How did they know that would work?" She paused. "Never mind, they have a genius."

Truman finally grinned at her. "It wasn't your dad that put it together. You, uh, kind of owe your life to Captain America now."

She groaned.

"It wasn't that bad!" he protested. "Apparently, he had asthma before he got all souped up. Epi-pens weren't around then, 'cause, you know, the 1940s, but he did remember that they had adrenaline treatments on most military bases. So… yeah, epi-pen."

They sat quietly for several minutes before Hannah began to freak out. "Truman…"

"What?" He shifted nervously at her tone of voice.

"Are they okay?"

"Who?"

"The twins! Are they okay?"

He blinked. "Oh, yeah. They're fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Jarvis has your medical files, so they made sure everything checked out. You weren't given any medications that were considered dangerous to pregnancy."

She breathed a little easier at that. "I don't think I want to know how he has those files."

"Me either," Truman grumbled.

Hannah's stomach suddenly flopped. Truman noted the blood draining from her face and quickly held the bucket for her again, making sure to pull her hair back as well.

"I'm going to blame that on the Meperidine," he said cheerfully.

"I'm not a science major, speak simple talk," Hannah groaned, hugging the bucket to her chest miserably.

"The anesthetic they gave you."

"I don't like it," she grumbled as she leaned over the bucket again.

"I'm sure," he laughed, rubbing her back consolingly as she puked.

"Why did they have to sedate me anyway?" she asked, catching her breath.

"They sedated you so you _wouldn't_ pull out the breathing tube while you were under observation," he answered pointedly, giving her a small glare.

"Oops?" she offered sheepishly.

He rolled his eyes. "They were—still are, actually—keeping you under observation, to make sure that everything is as it needs to be since they're not sure if the epi-pen will have any effects. You're technically still supposed to be asleep, but I guess things wore off faster than they'd expected."

"That's how it usually goes. Mom and dad used to complain that I woke up multiple times in those hip surgeries I had to have over the years. I can remember a few of them." She made a face as she had a thought. "And 'under observation' is an awful way to put it. Makes me feel like a bug under a microscope."

Truman sighed. "Yeah, well you could do with a little more observation if you ask me. Is this the first attack you've had like this? Since the one several years ago?"

Hannah nodded.

"Probably brought on by the same thing then, huh? Stress and anxiety?"

"Among other things," she added softly.

He rubbed his face. "Have you been taking your meds?"

"I uh, accidentally left them at home."

"Hannah!"

"What? I can't take them anyway!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his mouth tightening. "You're supposed to be managing it, Hannah. Part of that responsibility means telling them if you need a change in medication."

"It wasn't like this was an asthma attack caused by a build-up of stress and anxiety! It happened because I had a panic attack first! Which I think can be excused, seeing as how I had a gun in my face!"

"Stress and anxiety are what causes panic attacks in the first place! If you already had plentiful amounts of both, and I know you did, then it can be reasonably concurred that they made your asthma attack worse! I'm not saying the asthma attack was your fault, I'm just saying it could have been less severe if you were taking your medication like you were supposed to!"

Hannah's response was interrupted when someone cleared their throat. Tony was looking at the two of them with an amused expression. She hadn't heard him come in.

"If this is what it's like to have a sibling, I'm glad I lucked out. We can feel the tension three floors from here." He turned to Hannah, looking her over. "You're still supposed to be out of it. Also, Bruce called it: you pulled the tube out. Can't blame you there, I despise those things."

Hannah watched him with a startled expression as she processed what he had said.

"So… how do you like it?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Like what?" she asked cautiously.

He gestured around him. "The med-bay. You're the first one to use it, weirdly enough."

"You need better pillows," she deadpanned. "And blankets. The only way someone could sleep with these is if they were sedated."

Tony grinned at her, catching the joke. "I'll have someone get on that. I've got to go, Pepper volunteered me for some kind of speech tonight and I'm supposed to be there in—" He glanced at his watch. "—what was an hour ago. Damn, Pepper's going to kill me. Anyway, I'm glad you're feeling better, kid. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Carrots, that goes for you too. If she needs something and won't ask, ask for her. Or for yourself, I don't really care. I can afford it."

Hannah and Truman were exchanging confused looks as Tony walked out the door. He suddenly turned at pointed a finger at them. "I've been googling parenting tips, by the way. Don't make me stick you in a 'get-along' shirt. I will do it if you don't apologize to one another and make up. You're making everyone uncomfortable."

They both stared after him as he swaggered back out.

"I'm starting to get concerned," Hannah admitted slowly.

"Me too," Truman agreed.

Tony's voice carried down the hall. "I can still hear you, and you're not apologizing!"

The two sat in awkward silence for a few moments until Truman glanced at her. "So, uh, you want to go first?"

"Seriously?"

"It'll give me more time to come up with mine."

She sighed. "Alright. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I understand where you're coming from: you're my big brother. You look out for me, and I haven't done the best job returning the favor. It's just… there's so much going on, Truman, but I still feel… stuck. No, I feel like I'm being pulled down. And I'm sorry I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that... Your turn."

"Uh, okay. Here it goes: I'm sorry."

She gave him a look.

He sighed. "Fine, but your better appreciate the effort it takes to be eloquent. Uh... I'm sorry, too, for being so pushy. You just… you worry me sometimes, you know? You don't take care of yourself the way you should."

"I'll make more of an effort," she promised.

"Good."

They grinned at one another before Hannah mock-gagged.

"Ugh, that was a really cheesy apology, on both sides. We're like our own little Hallmark movie, aren't we?"

Truman laughed. "Should we complete the moment and hug it out?"

Hannah really did gag this time, as she grabbed the bucket again and hurled.

"That's a no," Truman sighed. "You know, you could have just said so."

Tony's voice floated down the hall again. "Jarvis, go ahead and order a get-along shirt. It'll be fun to pull out the next time someone decides to have a shouting match."

Truman shook his head. "I don't know what's weirder. The fact that an Avenger is your dad or the fact that this whole thing is actually beginning to feel a little normal."

Hannah only groaned.

* * *

A/N: Okay, this chapter gave me some serious trouble. Hopefully it's turned out okay, but I'm still unsatisfied with it. Can you tell that's usually the way it is, haha? I'm an extremely self-conscious person, and it especially comes out when I write, so I apologize if I constantly apologize. ;)

Also, some things may not be 100% accurate on the medical side of things in this chapter, but I'm not pulling it from nowhere, I actually did several hours of research.

Typos and mistakes. Yikes. I'm typing this on my phone because my computer died, so please just know that I will try to go back and fix some things in this chapter later on. Mostly I think it's just things that I like to put into italics that are not in italics, but there could also be some misspelled words or incorrectly used ones.

If anyone has any prompts about what they would like to see in future chapters, I'd be glad to hear them! I love hearing people's ideas! Also, let me know if you're unhappy with this chapter or see anything that I need to change. Also if you possibly can, please drop a review and tell me what I you think so far. I'm not going to beg for reviews or threaten not to update until I get a certain number, but they really do mean a lot to me and put a smile on my face, which I find myself in great need of lately.

Thank you very much to all my kind reviewers of the last chapter. I'm sorry it took so long to get out, there's been a lot going on in the family lately and I've been stuck camping, studying, and babysitting—mostly babysitting. How can some kids be angels and then turn into brats when the parents leave, ha ha? Anyway, it's been a stressful summer and I'm also recovering from a dislocated knee, so... yeah. Long story short, there was no story for a while. I apologize again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, hopefully I'll be able to update again soon!


	8. Comisseration

**Ta-da, the elusive writer returns! And wow, what she returns to! GUYS, this story has reached over _ten-thousand views. And also hit the 150 and 100 follows and favorites mark_. Y'all have made my month! I really needed some good news (see end for further notes), so thank you all so very much for making that possible. Also, thank yous to all who reviewed last update, including those I cannot reply to by PM: _Izzy Bug, M,_ and the the unnamed guest, thank you for the reviews! They brought a smile to my face. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know if you see any mistakes or if you're confused about anything.**

 **-Piper and Snippy**

* * *

Hannah was relieved when they finally let her leave the med-bay three hours later, though she left with the strict condition that she rest and stay off of her feet if she felt dizzy or lightheaded. Truman was more than happy to promise the medical staff that he would watch her and drag her back if she didn't do as instructed.

"I'm sure you will, dear," the elderly nurse in charge smiled, patting his face as she left the room.

Hannah gave Truman a raised eyebrow, to which he grinned cheekily.

"What?"

"Really? You swore on Return of the Jedi?" When his grin widened, she rolled her eyes. "And our parents think that I'm the dramatic one."

"You _did_ go into theatre."

Hannah made a face. "Ah, yes, theatre. The study of crushed dreams and hopes."

"I thought you were over that?"

"That" was referring to when Hannah had collapsed onstage four years ago during the opening night of the production _Annabella_. She had turned eighteen three weeks before, and it was her first major part, her chance to be noticed. The collapse, caused by increasing anxiety leading to an asthma attack and seizure, had squashed that chance. Squashed it on stage like a bug under a shoe, in front of hundreds of people waiting for the opening act of _Annabella._ The only notice she got from that entire episode was an article mentioning her in its search to help people manage their anxiety. The entire thing was still on her list of most humiliating experiences.

"I am... Mostly. It still stings."

Truman made a short gesture to the pristine halls of the med bay. "This dragged everything back up, didn't it?"

Hannah glanced up at the harsh lights, wincing as another headache pulled her frayed nerves at the action. "It certainly doesn't help. I don't know, Truman. I just wish some things were… different."

Truman pushed his glasses up his nose from where they had slid, tilting his head. "You know though, if you hadn't of had that attack that night, things would be _really_ different."

"You're not supposed to rub things in."

"I was trying to make a point."

"Proceed…?"

"If that attack hadn't happened, then you would have never found out that you were adopted. You would have never decided to try to find your biological mom. And you definitely _never_ would have decided to be an idiot and marry Jason two months after you started dating—"

Hannah swatted at him, knowing full well he was teasing with that last comment. "We were dating for two years, stupid. Casually, yes, but it's not like we just eloped."

"You _did_ elope."

"But we were dating _first_."

"Would you have been an idiot if you had met his parents first?" Truman teased.

Hannah exhaled in a semblance of a laugh. "Fine, I would have hesitated... maybe. His mother is a witch, I swear."

"I was talking about her husband. He's worse than a witch, he's a _politician._ " Truman grinned as she shoved his shoulder playfully. "Okay, okay. Point is though, if you hadn't of had that attack, yeah, maybe some bad things wouldn't have happened. But neither would some of the good things. Milo probably wouldn't be here now. You were planning on waiting to have kids, right?"

Hannah faltered at the thought of not having Milo. "Yeah."

"Then see, something good came out of that episode. Plus, how much more of a shock would this—" he waved around them "—have been if you had no idea mom and dad weren't your birth parents?"

She shuddered. "Ugh, don't go there. That—that would have been _horrible._ "

"Case in point," Truman grinned. "Come on, Milo's probably driving Ms. Potts up a wall with his questions."

* * *

Hannah found herself with an armful of four-year-old when she entered the room Jarvis had directed her to. Truman was, thankfully, capable of keeping her on her feet when Milo bowled into her, but she still lost her balance a bit. That, however, ceased being a concern when she took stock of the situation at hand.

Milo was sobbing, curling himself into her shoulder and refusing to be let down. Hannah struggled to hold him up when he refused to even go to Truman, and instead gave up and sat in the floor, rocking him back and forth gently as he cried into her shirt.

Pepper was conversing quietly with Truman nearby, Truman nodding while Pepper worried her lip.

"Hey," Hannah crooned softly, lifting Milo's tear-stained face to look into it. "What's wrong, buddy?"

He sniffled, his eyes welling up again. Hannah hugged him to her chest, stroking his hair. Pepper disappeared, only to return a moment later, passing Hannah a handful of tissues and a bottle of water.

"I'm sorry, Hannah. He was fine a moment ago, I don't understand what happened," she apologized, her eyes crinkling.

"It's alright. I—I think I know what's going on," Hannah said quietly. "It's like when kids fall—sometimes they won't cry 'til they see their mom..."

Pepper, having seen such behavior before with her own nieces and nephews, nodded in sudden understanding.

"I'll give you some privacy. Please let me know if you need anything. Also, the team is having dinner tonight, if you would like to join."

Inside, Hannah shrunk at the thought. "I think I'll have to pass. Thank you, Pepper, I appreciate the thoughtfulness, but I think we need some time to ourselves."

Pepper gave them a small smile. "I understand. Take as much time as you need." She glanced over at Truman. "You're more than welcome to join as well—it's an open invitation."

Truman's eyes were huge. "Uh-uh, um… thanks? I, uh, don't think I'm ready for that though?"

Pepper chuckled. "They can be intimidating, can't they? Just remember that they're human, it makes it much easier. Hannah, remember to let us know if you need anything. I had the thought earlier that you don't have an OB/GYN? Would you like me to consult a few well-recommended ones and see if they're interested in coming to the tower?"

"That'll be fine, I think," Hannah nodded, continuing to rock gently back and forth as Milo's hiccupping sobs slowly began to soften. Pepper smiled before she quietly exited the room, leaving them to their own devices. Truman crouched next to his sister and nephew, tousling the kid's hair.

"You want to tell us what's wrong, scout?" he asked kindly.

Milo peeked up at him and, while she could see his face, Hannah dabbed some of the wetness away with the tissues.

"Milo?" Hannah asked searchingly. "What's going on, bud? Why are you upset?"

"It's silly," he pouted, searching to hide his face again. Hannah held his face between her hands firmly, preventing such action.

"Whatever it is, it's not silly," she smiled, kissing his forehead. "And even if it were silly, it'd still be important because it's _you_ who thought it _._ "

He met her eyes skittishly. "Really?"

"Really."

He looked down for a moment, then back up, his little chin quivering. "I…I thought you weren't coming back."

"What?" Hannah asked, her voice breaking.

Milo ducked his head. "I knew it was silly."

"No, no, no, baby," Hannah said hurriedly. "It's not silly at all. It's a very real fear."

She met Truman's eyes over her son's head, communicating silently that she had no idea what she was doing. There were times when Hannah wondered if she was failing as a mother, times where she was afraid she would say the wrong thing, where she didn't feel well equipped to explain delicate things.

And Milo was waiting for her to elaborate, his big green eyes on her face.

"Why did you think I wasn't coming back?"

Milo blinked quickly, not wanting to let more tears escape. "Daddy went to New York—he didn't come back. And—and that scary lady _shot_ you and there was blood all over the floor, so I thought you were going to die, too!"

"What blood—oh." The cut on her foot. Milo—oh god. Milo thought she had been shot, and no one had explained what was going on since Truman had immediately taken him next door to his apartments. Hannah closed her eyes, sick to her stomach.

"Milo, no, sweetheart. I wasn't shot, I stepped on a piece of glass and it cut my foot. That's what the blood was from."

Truman let out a breath. "Buddy, I thought I told you your momma was okay?"

Milo shook his head. "You said she went to the doctor!"

Truman scratched behind his ear, seeing where the misunderstanding had been solidified. "Crap, I did, didn't I?"

Milo nodded tearfully.

Truman shook his head. "I'm sorry, bud. Come here." He hauled his nephew into his own lap, wrapping him up in a tight hug. "Next time, remind me to give you better details, okay?"

Hannah reached over to smooth her hand over her son's temple. "Milo, if you're ever afraid of something, come to us, alright? Talk about it with us, and we'll try to figure it out. It can be hard, I know, but it helps."

"I—I'm scared you'll leave and not come back," Milo whispered, tucking his head under Truman's chin and snuggling against him.

Milo liked routine. He liked the assurance that, while nothing was exactly the same day to day, things still had a set way of happening, at least in the Lawson household. He knew he went to bed every night at eight, that he sat down at the piano at least twice a week to learn next to his mother, that he couldn't watch more than two cartoons every day because it was "bad for his brain". He could expect Hannah's music pupils to arrive every Thursday and Friday after school, to sit down at the dinner table to eat when his dad was home and usually even when he wasn't. To Milo, things were always organized and scheduled into a known routine, Hannah and Jason had tried their best to see to that. Jason because his own life had never had that sense of stability he craved, and Hannah because she knew from her childhood education classes how important stability really _was_ to a child's growing brain and body.

And suddenly, with that miserable phone call regarding Jason's passing, everything had changed. That sense of stability his parents had tried so hard to build came crumbling down around him and his mother. Milo learned that things weren't always the same, he was still learning that. They weren't organized anymore, and a schedule was almost unheard of. He went to bed later than eight now, no longer sat down twice a week at the piano, and found himself watching more than just two cartoons because his mom was suddenly busier than she had been in years, struggling to keep ahead of the payments and bills due each month. Pupils that Hannah tutored in music came almost every day, such as Emily, who would be on summer break now. And his dad never came home to sit and eat dinner with them as a family, nor would he ever do so again.

So Hannah understood why he was so terrified of losing her. Milo could always expect Jason to come home and then, suddenly, he hadn't. The loss of that surety, and the knowledge that it could happen again with his mother, terrified the four-year-old. Hannah almost wished he wasn't so adept at putting things together, since it may have spared him some heartache. Instead of being satisfied with some vague description of "he went away and won't come back", Milo was left with the knowledge that death had stolen his father away from him, and could do the same with any of the ones he loved.

Hannah gave him a sad smile. "I know, sweetheart. I'm afraid of the same thing. But, I can promise you that I'll always try my best to come back to you, alright?"

His nose wrinkled. "But that's not enough!"

"Then I'll help her come back," Truman promised. "I'm her big brother, after all."

Hannah, seeing an opportunity to not only make the conversation lighter but also to broach a subject they needed to talk about, seized it.

"Speaking of big brothers…" She placed a hand on her stomach. Truman grinned at her. She smiled back, then glanced down to watch Milo's reaction. "How do you feel about being one?"

Milo's jaw dropped. "NO WAY!" he crowed, hopping to his feet and scurrying back over to Hannah's lap. He crouched down to look at her stomach. "There's a _baby in there?_ "

"No." His face fell a little, and Hannah's grin widened. "But you want to know what _is_ in there?"

Milo pouted, feeling slighted. "Breakfast?" he guessed halfheartedly.

Hannah leaned in like she was telling some big secret. " _Two_ _babies._ "

The pout melted into a large grin, and two small arms wrapped themselves around her neck.

* * *

It was dark outside when Tony dragged Rhodey into the elevator.

"Isn't it a bit late to do this? And who exactly are you wanting me to meet?"

"You'll see."

Rhodey rolled his eyes at Tony's vague answer. "You hacked my phone so I couldn't turn it off, or even on silent. You then proceeded to continue calling me, _while_ I was in a very important meeting with my superiors. I think you can at least give me the courtesy of—why are we on the residential floors? I thought you brought important guests to the penthouse?"

"I tried, but Pepper said she needed to get rooms together first, since apparently most of them are still being repaired from Loki's destructive mood swing. My kid took being adopted _way_ better."

Rhodey choked. "What?"

Tony cackled. "Congratulations, you're a godfather."

Rhodey paled. "You're serious?"

"Yep."

"A little more of a warning next time?"

"You really wanted me to spring this on you over the phone?"

Rhodey paused. "Good point. So, uh, you brought them here?"

"Fury did. Long story."

"…okay."

Tony stopped, knocking on the door farthest down the hallway. A kid answered, dressed in green-striped pajamas, his bright eyes sparkling excitedly as he saw who it was.

"Tony!"

"Milo." Tony smiled before remembering himself. "Uh, hey? Your mom here?"

"Duh," the kid huffed. "She's not stupid enough to leave a four-year-old by himself."

Rhodey's mouth quirked at the corners at Tony's affronted look, noting the similarities his friend and the kid shared in their facial structure as well as their expressions. Not to mention the attitude.

"Did you just 'duh' me? Me, the genius?"

Milo had the grace—and self-preservation—to look sheepish, muttering, "I'm a genius, too. You said so."

Tony grinned. "That I did, kiddo. Stark genes rock, huh?"

Rhodey elbowed him as the billionaire moved to enter the apartment. The man winced, rubbing his side and glaring at the Colonel, who was giving him a pointed look.

"Go, uh, ask your mom if we can come in?" he asked.

"You brought his mom? What did Pepper say?" Rhodey asked as Milo took off, leaving the door open behind him.

Tony blinked. "Who in their right mind would bring me a four-year-old that _didn't_ have the adult supervision of a parent? What kind of parent would do that? And also, Pepper is the one who told her."

Rhodey's lips thinned at the idea. Tony lacked tact, yes, but even _he_ should know that it was a faux pas to send your fiancé to break the news that the woman's son was Stark's. "Pepper told her. She didn't know? Or assume?"

"Um, why would she?"

"Usually when someone gets you pregnant you know who they are. Or at least suspect. I suppose you were both probably too drunk to remember?"

Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I would have remembered getting this one pregnant if I weren't smashed."

"And Pepper is okay with this?"

"Yes?"

"Oh my god, Tony. You don't know if she is, do you?"

"Rhodey—"

"Is she mad? No, is she _acting_ mad? Because if she's the doing the silent anger thing, you are already dead and buried, T."

"Why—"

"Because you brought one of your past one night stands to stay in the Tower, maybe? Genius playboy, my foot. I should not have to explain this to you." Tony's confusion morphed into understanding, and Rhodey nodded. "There, you got it through your thick head."

Rhodey was ready to deck him as Tony began _laughing._ Not just snickering, but a full-on _cackle_. He scowled.

"Is there a joke I missed or something? Because this sure as heck isn't funny, Tony."

"You—you thought—" Tony was laughing again. Full, gut-wrenching, laughter. Rhodey hadn't seen him laugh so hard in years. Usually, it would amuse him.

"Stark," he grit out warningly.

"No, no, it's just—" Tony straightened, a crap-stirring grin on his lips as he huffed out another laugh. "I don't think you understand the situation."

Rhodey's silence crackled with restrained tension. Silence that allowed both of them to hear an unmistakable sound coming from inside the apartments. Tony's smile fell.

"Not again."

Regardless of whether or not he had been welcomed by the boy's mother, Tony bolted inside. Rhodey, hesitantly, followed.

* * *

"Are you okay?"

At first, he thought Tony was talking to Milo, only to realize that Tony was standing in a bathroom doorway and Milo was standing beside him, anxiously shifting around and glancing from Tony to the bathroom's occupant. Tony ruffled the boy's hair before waving him off into the living room and requesting Jarvis play a cartoon.

"Kid, you really need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," a woman answered. She sounded young, and also miserable.

"This is the second time you've thrown up today. Either you have the stomach flu—in which case I myself will be likely reliving my many hangovers in the next few days—or there's something else going on and you need to go see someone before it gets serious."

"…I'm sensitive to dairy."

"Bull."

"No, really. It was the eggs this morning."

"You told me it was an, and I quote, "episode, nervous breakdown type of thing". I'm pretty sure that's more likely the case, seeing as you spent a good eight hours in the med bay because of one."

"…Eggs make me anxious?"

"Haha, no. Romanoff is neither scrambled or fried—she's intelligent enough to make anyone anxious, but she's not an egg, so again, I call bull. Sick or anxious, which is it?"

A feminine groan came from the direction of the bathroom, in what Rhodey assumed was the floor, seeing as Tony was blocking his view.

"Both, and I think it's your fault."

 _He got her pregnant_ _ **again**_ _?_ Rhodey thought. _And what does Pepper think about that?_

Tony turned to glare at him. "Really, Rhodey? Thoughts inside your head, man."

"Did he just ask if you got me pregnant? Are you freaking serious?" came the affronted voice from inside the bathroom. "Contrary to popular belief, people from the south aren't that disgusting. I'm nauseated thinking about it."

"You were already nauseated. And unfortunately, he did ask that. We were about to clear that up before I heard you getting reacquainted with the porcelain here. Ew, what, did you eat Oreos?"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"No, pretty sure I hate you. This can technically be counted as your fault."

"…And that's how people get these ideas," Tony sighed with false disappointment. In truth, he was looking increasingly entertained. "He's judging us. It's all over his face."

Another groan. "Not like that, idiot-who-assumes-things who is outside. It's his fault I'm on this earth, so it's also distantly his fault that I'm alive right now, puking up my guts."

"You mean Oreos," Tony interjected.

"Stop staring at my vomit. How does that not strike you as gross?"

"I said ew. And also, I've seen the inside of a bloated alien whale's stomach. Entire digestive track really. This is nothing."

The sound of retching followed his statement.

"I _really_ want you to shut up," the woman muttered.

"But we were bonding!"

"…over vomit. People do not 'bond' over vomit. They commiserate."

"We were commiserating then."

"The definition of commiserating is sympathizing. You're _laughing_."

"So we _were_ bonding."

"Like two atoms that create a really bad reaction. I'm about to call Pepper down on your head if you don't stop cracking jokes while I'm miserable."

Tony grinned, moving aside and motioning to Rhodey.

"Platypus, meet Honeybear. Momma Bear to the smart mouth in the living room, and Baby Bear to the two of us. Congrats, it's a girl?"

Rhodey blinked. Oh. _Oh._

* * *

Hannah was woman enough to admit that at the moment, she was admittedly not at her best moment. One of her more embarrassing ones, really.

She was on the bathroom floor _again_ —when had this become a habit?—her stomach _again_ in the throes of the seemingly never-ending cycle of chaos. Bluntly, it sucked. Was it really too much to ask that she be allowed a reprieve, however brief, from yacking up Kansas after the day she had had? No, the day she was still having?

Tony Stark was grinning at her, Colonel James Rhodes was gaping at her, and she was almost to the point where she really didn't care anymore. So, what if she probably looked like she was hungover? He knew Tony from his MIT days, surely it wasn't the first time he'd seen someone look like the Great Plague hit them.

She gave a small wave.

"Colonel Rhodes," she greeted warily. "Hi. I'm Hannah, unfortunate receiver of the Stark genetics."

"People usually don't know who I am unless it's by War Machine," he commented, ignoring Tony's indignant squawk.

"Yeah, well, I watched the debacle with Stern a few years ago. Hilarious, by the way. I'm assuming it was your sense of irony to have him be the one to award you both medals. I make sure to rub it in every time I see him, which hopefully won't be as often now."

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. "You know Stern?"

"Uh, more importantly, you see him? _Often_?" Tony interjected.

Hannah scowled. "Why do you think Jason and I eloped? He didn't want me to meet his parents, obviously. His mother's a witch."

"His mother is the one you don't like? Really?" Rhodey asked incredulously.

"Wait, back up! You father-in-law is _STERN?_ Milo shares genes with _him_?"

"Technically, it's step-father-in-law. Kathy—my mother-in-law—remarried when Jason was in elementary school. But yeah, worst father-in-law ever. He's a freaking creep. Watching you guys grill him on national television is still one of my life's greatest highlights."

Tony looked a little green. "I think we can commiserate now."

* * *

"No," Rhodey chuckled as they left the apartment.

"What?" Tony asked.

"You, a grandpa? This...this is rich. After all your ribbing Cap, _you're the one who's a grandpa._ "

His friend scowled at him. "Shut up, Rhodes."

* * *

Hannah was allowed a two-day reprieve from company outside of Milo and Truman before Tony was knocking on her door again. Early in the morning. _Again._

"Do you have something against letting me sleep?" she asked, blearily rubbing her eyes. "Milo was up half the night with nightmares. If you woke or wake him up, I'm going to kick you and your tin can into an active volcano."

"It's a gold-titanium alloy, technically."

"I'm also sure it will "technically" still melt if it's dumped into molten rock, thank you," Hannah sniffed. "Did you need something?"

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets, his nose wrinkling. "You're in a bad mood."

"Yes, I am. I was up all night trying to comfort my terrified son that I wasn't going to leave him and I have a stress headache."

He rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry."

She deflated, leaning against the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see if you were feeling better."

"Well, there's an improvement from yesterday."

"Wouldn't take much."

"Are you always this snarky?"

"What can I say, Starks are snarks."

Hannah's mouth lifted. "Do you use that excuse often?"

"Every day, along with "I blame it on my DNA"."

"Are you purposefully rhyming now?"

Tony winked, causing an unwilling grin to break out on Hannah's face.

"Okay, okay. What do you want?"

"Are you going to threaten me if I ask?"

"…maybe."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Listen here, Snarky—"

"I blame it on my DNA."

He smirked. "Yeah, good one. Very original."

"Why thank you."

Tony huffed a laugh. "Anyway. Look, Pepper's worried about you. I know all this is new, but maybe come out of your room more?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Pepper's the one worried about me?"

"Fine. I'm worried. And it's freaking me out."

"Why?"

"I've never been a dad before, I don't know what to do with all these—these—feelings!"

Hannah blinked. "…You do realize that I'm an adult?"

"Yes, I know. I'm still worried though! And now I'm worrying about worrying because I've never worried like this before!"

"Okay… What do you want me to do, exactly?"

"I have no clue! What do dads and daughters usually do?"

It took Hannah a moment to get past the idea that he off-handedly referred to the two of them as being included in the dad and daughter group. The concept was still new and uncomfortable to her, and she stammered out, "Um, well… they hang out together, I guess."

"That's it?"

"Yes, no? I think?"

"Okay."

She stared at him. "Is that what… you want us to do?"

"I guess?" He sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm horrible at this dad thing."

Hannah chuckled. "Dude, chill. You've been at this for less than a week, you're doing better than most people in your position would. Seriously, calm down."

Hannah squeaked when he crushed her against him in a tight hug. "You are incredible."

"Uh…thanks?"

"No, really. I have no idea why or what I've done to deserve a second chance at you—I've probably not done anything. Which is why you're so incredible. I—I thought you would hate me."

Hannah didn't ask why he thought she would hate him. She knew why and so did he, thanks to Gabe. Part of her _had_ hated him before all of this, the part that also made her want to hide herself away and not come out for fear of being abandoned all over again. But he wasn't the man the tabloids and news suggested he was. Not with her, anyway, or Milo. Not even Truman. Yes, he could be a jerk, and he was a sarcastic one at that. But he was actually trying (and somewhat succeeding) to show Hannah that he cared.

Albeit, it was _really_ weird to be hugged by Iron Man. But Hannah didn't hate him. He was actually kind of likable. Once he and his friends stopped assuming that Milo was his son and not his grandson, that is. Really, that was extremely awkward and mortifying. Hannah's face still burned when she thought about it.

* * *

 **AN: So, um, the dislocated knee thing? Much better. Out of therapy, life is great, blah blah blah... whoops, I fell down a hole. Dang it. A literal stinking rabbit hole. Nice one, Alice. So yeah. Horribly sprained ankle. On the other leg, no less. Also sprained my bad knee all over again. As an introvert, I like my privacy. I especially like my privacy when I'm in a mood and trying to write. I love my family, I do, and I think they're adorably sweet for trying to cheer me up while I'm off my feet. But being the center of attention in this attempt has drained my energy levels. I'm planning on hiding in the bathroom when the doorbell rings again, I swear. I'm an introvert, not a hermit: I like people, thank you, I just need time away from them. But seeing as I'm almost never alone now (really guys, I know I'm clumsy, but put some faith in me and only come running when you hear the thud. No hovering please), the hermit option sounds more and more appealing. Anyway, my apologies for the rant.**

 **In regards to the story, _I really_ _did not mean for it to progress this slowly._ But I also understand the importance of having strong foundations to build on (see above where both my foundations are currently screwed), so... sorry? I'm a little frustrated that I haven't gotten to the parts you guys really want to see, but I _do_ promise they'll come. I plan in the next chapter for Hannah to become more acclimated to the Tower's environment, including an actual introduction to the team instead of the awkward avoidance of gazes, haha. And, hopefully, Tony will be finding out that she's pregnant. I wanted to write that scene so it would include the other Avengers (I believe someone said something about Clint having a gut feeling?), so that's why he hasn't been informed yet. But he definitely knows that somethings up, so the stage has been set, so to speak.  
**

 **Let me know what you think about this chapter! I know I've been springing some major plot points the past few updates, but they'll all come together in the future. Hopefully. I've written out the plan, just not the story. I also went back and fixed some things in previous chapters. Nothing major, but if this chapter doesn't make sense, go check it out.  
**


	9. Conversations

Tony raised an eyebrow when Truman answered the door the next day. "Carrots."

Truman pushed his glasses up his nose, giving him a half-hearted glare at the nickname. "Sister's father."

"Hannah home?"

Truman shifted nervously. "Now's probably not a good time."

"Why not?"

Hannah's brother checked over his shoulder. "It's a bad day."

"Uh… okay? Pessimistic much?"

Rolling his eyes, Truman stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. "Hannah is having a bad day."

"Still sick?"

"Nah, her stomach's decided to play nice today." Truman looked like he was mulling something over in his head, deciding what to say. He rubbed the back of his neck. "So, New York happened."

Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "Is this conversation going somewhere, or is this small talk? 'Cause New York? Not something I like to talk about."

"Yeah, I get that. Hannah's the same way."

"She lost her husband, right?"

"Yeah." Truman bounced nervously on the balls of her feet. "I'm not sure how much she's filled you in on—"

"She didn't. Pepper was the one who told me. I don't know much, apart from the fact that it was the Incident."

"Yeah, well, turns out Hannah didn't know much either. Gabe had to fill her in. Apparently, Jason was on some kind of air transport, not in the city itself. At least, I think that's what it was—the thirty-thousand feet is a bit of a giveaway."

"The Heli-Carrier. We almost came out of the sky when it was attacked. New York happened after." Tony frowned. "Wait. Her husband was a SHIELD agent?"

"I think? That creepy one-eyed guy offered condolences and made comments about losing good agents when he first popped up, so... yes."

Tony held a finger up. "Just to clarify, this is the same Jason that Stern raised, right?"

Truman wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Yeah, his step-father. If you think he's bad, you should meet his wife. That woman is a witch. I could use a stronger, rhyming word, if you catch my meaning. But, unfortunately, Hannah's got a swear jar and my mom swears I'll never be too old to have my mouth washed out. Best not to make it a habit."

Tony stopped listening half-way through the babble. "What was Jason like?"

"Why?"

"Reasons. Anything about him ever feel, oh I don't know, off?"

Truman rubbed his face. "I never liked him, if that's what you're asking."

"Surprise," Tony harrumphed. "Stern's kid, remember?"

Truman snorted. "Not disagreeing there. Being off though… I don't know. It could be that he was doing the whole MIB thing and didn't tell anyone. Hannah's been a little freaked that he kept something so big from her."

"She didn't know?"

"Not until Gabe told her last week." Truman nodded behind him in the direction of Hannah's apartment. "I think a little of what she's dealing with is the fallout from that. I've been waiting for the shoe to drop, so to speak, for everything to catch up to her. She's good at bottling everything up."

"Standard Stark issue," Tony grimaced. "One would hope she hadn't inherited that."

Truman grinned. "Tough luck." He toed an imaginary line on the floor with his shoed toe. "Uh, why the question? About Jason being off? I know you said reasons, but..."

"You're curious?"

"And concerned. She's my sister, sue me."

Tony chuckled, but it fell flat. "I don't trust SHIELD."

"I don't either, and I barely know who or what they are."

Tony nodded. "Too many secrets." He scowled. "And they're manipulative of them, too. I don't trust SHIELD enough to believe in pure coincidence."

Truman wore an accessing look. "You think they manipulated Hannah into marrying Jason?"

Tony gave a small shrug. It was plausible, given their record. "Who's to say? I do, however, think I smell a rat. One from the same pack Fury's worried about."

Truman didn't ask what "pack". He knew. Hannah was right in that things felt… off. It looked like her father agreed. SHIELD had rats in the basement.

"We should make out a timeline," Truman thought out loud. "See if any dates match up. Maybe start where Hannah met Jason and continue from there."

Tony nodded. "We'll map it out. Are you available tonight?"

Truman looked at him with big eyes. "Uh… maybe. It depends on if Hannah needs me to stick around or not."

"Well, if she can spare you, let Jarvis know." He made a motion towards the apartment door. "Mind if I pop my head in and say hi?"

"Your funeral," Truman replied with a grin.

Tony's hand landed on the doorknob when he paused. "Wait, did you say Hannah has a swear jar?"

* * *

"Hey!" Milo greeted cheerfully, swinging his legs back and forth from his seat on the bar stool.

"Hey," Tony returned, awkwardly ruffling the kid's hair. He made a face at the Iron Man shaped hole in the kitchen wall, able to see the hallway through the decimated sheetrock. "Yikes, I need to get that fixed."

Hannah pulled her head out of the fridge and looked at him, then resumed digging through the produce drawer. "Hi. I'm surprised you've been using the door, actually. You want anything?"

She seemed… not at all what he expected when Carrots said "bad day". Her eyes were a little red-rimmed maybe, and her voice was a little thick, but she didn't seem upset.

"Uh… blueberries?"

She paused in her search. "Blueberries."

"…Yes?"

"I hope you like sharing then because he's got the last of them," she said, waving in Milo's general direction. He grinned, holding the bowl out to Tony. Despite his abhorrence for being handed things, Tony took a few.

"Thanks. You know, when your brother said you were having a bad day, I didn't expect you to be… this, uh, relaxed."

Truman looked panicked. "Dude, you poked the bear! You should not have poked the bear!"

Hannah seemed to find what she was looking for, pulling away from the fridge with an apple in her hand. She grabbed a knife from a drawer, giving her brother a raised eyebrow.

Truman slowly leaned closer to Tony. "She has a knife. Our best shot at living is to back away. Slowly."

Tony barked out a laugh. "Are you two always like this?"

"Sadly, yes. My mom is a saint for putting up with it. I think she patent-pended the get-along shirt." Hannah sliced off a sliver of her apple, popping it into her mouth as she looked at Truman. "Also, really?" she asked wryly.

He winced. "Well, when you start the day off having a meltdown and throwing things at me, yes, I assume you're having a bad day. Which means I do not want to come near you when you have a knife in your hands."

"Should I be concerned something might come flying by my head?"

"It was a pillow," Hannah huffed in answer to Tony's question. "And I'm shocked that that pulls more of your attention than the knife comment."

"Well, I was counting the knife as something, so..."

"No, you shouldn't worry about me throwing something at you. That's reserved for siblings who are sanity terrorists trying to steal my coffee. I can have caffeine, dang it," she added, sending her brother a glare as she sliced another piece of apple.

"Too much is bad for you," Truman argued.

"Too much of anything is bad for you," she shot back.

"Wait, in what order did this all happen? Pillow after the coffee suspension, yeah, but was the meltdown before or after the coffee thing?"

Hannah plopped into the bar stool beside Milo, stealing one of the blueberries from his bowl. "It wasn't a meltdown. A meltdown entails screaming and fits. I cried. For five minutes. And like most men I know, Truman is horrible with girl tears so he panicked and labeled it a meltdown. He also insists that caffeine will further destabilize my mood, which is where the coffee rights were taken away."

"And that's when you hit him with a pillow?"

"Yep."

Tony shrugged. "Sounds like a good enough motive to me."

Hannah grinned, moving to toss her apple core into the trash bin. "So, any particular reason for this visit?"

"Uh, I wanted to see if you would come to the common space and meet a few friends."

"The Avengers."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Now?"

Hannah blinked at him. "Uh, not sure you noticed, but I'm still in my pajamas."

"Doesn't matter," Tony replied flippantly.

"No, I really, really, am not prepared to meet your teammates," Hannah stressed, moving to the sink to rinse the knife off.

"You'll be fine."

"I woke up a few minutes ago! My hair and teeth haven't even been brushed."

"Then don't breathe on anyone. Your hair is fine."

"Also," Hannah continued, ignoring Tony's input as she pointed in his direction with the knife, "I'm not even wearing a bra. I cannot meet New York's infamous trick-or-treaters looking like this. I can't meet anyone looking like this!"

"They've seen you before, you know. This is an improvement."

She gave him a look.

"Okay, no, my hair was brushed and I was dressed in something other than pajamas. And I actually had a bra on then."

"Yeah, we could all tell."

Hannah's face turned beet red at the reminder. "Oh gosh. I'm not going to be able to look anyone in the eye, am I?"

Tony grinned. "They were all polite enough to turn away when they realized what was going on. Rogers' face was three shades darker than yours if it makes you feel better."

She scowled. "No, it doesn't. I feel like I violated the Golden Boy's sense of modesty. Gabe is going to lose it if he ever hears this story. Not to mention my dad."

Tony crossed his arms, lips twitching. "I didn't lose it- I thought it was hilarious."

"Haha. The other dad is going to flip. He's always been a stickler for covering the bases." She gave a pointed look in Truman's direction. "I swear Truman, if you dare—"

Truman held up his hands in defense. "Just don't tell mom I don't actually have a girlfriend and we'll be even."

"Or I could make it up by finding you a girlfriend."

"Uh, no. I'm not ready for that."

Hannah leaned over to rib his sides. "One of these days…"

"But it is not this day!" Truman retorted, shoving her hands away as he laughed. "Stop poking me!"

Hannah gave a mock pout. "Aw, but it's so fun!"

Truman snorted. "Ridiculous." He shot a grin at Milo. "Hey, Scout, tell your mom to act her age!"

Milo wrinkled his nose. "But that's _old_. She's funner now!"

"I don't know whether to be offended or flattered," Hannah said under her breath, giving Tony a look as he chuckled to himself. "I don't know why you're laughing. If I'm old, you're ancient."

Tony faux gasped, clutching his chest. "Milo, tell your mom—"

"Ms. Pepper said not to listen to you if you asked me to do something dangerous." Milo popped a blueberry into his mouth, smiling mischievously.

Tony blinked. "She said what?"

Milo just smiled wider while Tony scoffed to himself. His mother and uncle caught the look, and Hannah rolled her eyes while Truman laughed, "Hey look, he takes after you."

Tony paused in his muttering to narrow his eyes at Milo. "You little sneak. Pepper didn't really say that, did she?"

Milo shrugged, giggling. "She said ask a 'nother adult if it sounded danger'us. I was pair-phasing it."

"Pair-phasing." Tony scratched his head. "Huh. Never heard it said that way before."

"Mommy says I use big words the right way, but say them the wrong way sometimes," Milo explained with a shrug. "She says my grammar is getting better, if I think about it when I talk." He held the bowl of blueberries out again, and Tony pulled a few from the bowl, waving at him to keep the rest.

"Everyone does that, kid," Tony assured him, patting his shoulder as he moved past to the door. Keep using your big words, they're impressive for your age. Oh, Hannah, we're doing lunch in the communal kitchen, if you think you're up to coming. I don't want to push, but I can only hold them off for so long. They keep bugging me to let them meet you."

Hannah rubbed her arms. "Um." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she weighed her options. "Okay."

Tony's face brightened. "Really?"

"Y-yeah. Just, uh, make sure no one points a gun at me this time?" she asked, her eyes going to the chipped bullet pit in the kitchen's marble backsplash.

"All weapons will be put away." Tony grimaced. "If it makes you feel better, I can ask Natasha not to come."

Hannah deduced that Natasha was the same red-head she had alluded to. She looked at Milo before turning back to Tony. "You shouldn't have to alienate one of your team because she saw a newcomer as a possible threat and decided to guard her territory. It weakens and places strain on the dynamic, and I don't want to be the cause of that."

"I don't think anyone would blame you," he replied, making the wise decision not to tell her that Natasha had pulled the gun under orders to evaluate how Hannah responded to high-risk, high-pressure situations.

"I'd blame myself." She swallowed, tilting her chin slightly. "People need you to keep a united front. If Milo thinks he will be okay with it, I'm fine being in the same room, on the condition that we're not left alone with her. If I avoid speaking or looking at her, however…

"I don't think anyone would blame you," he repeated, grinning. "I think they might actually respect you for putting up with her after the gun stunt."

Hannah gave a stressed smile. "I doubt I'm that impressive."

* * *

Truman watched Hannah sink into the couch after Tony left the apartment.

"You could have said no."

She groaned, pulling her feet up and rolling over so that she was laying down. "I know."

"Why didn't you?"

"Is 'I don't know' an acceptable answer?"

"Sis…"

"I really don't know. I kind of decided what the heck and went for it?"

Truman made a face. "That kind of decision sounds horribly familiar." He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Oh, no, no, noooooo. That's the same thing you said when you decided to travel for spring break!"

"No, that's what you said when I asked you why you came with me," Hannah laughed.

"Worst vacation ever."

"Some good came out of it," she smiled, winking at Milo.

Truman smiled at his nephew before looking back at his sister and shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you told him you weren't wearing a bra." He squinted at her. "You must have pregnancy brain."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "I was just trying to make a point of how unready I was."

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle meeting them? Most associate them with New York… Will you be okay?"

"I—" She dropped her eyes to the floor, biting her lip. "—I think so. Gabe said Jason wasn't here in New York when it happened, though he was close. I'm glad he told me before we were brought here, it'd be harder to stay if he hadn't."

Milo hopped down from his seat at the bar when he heard the strain in her voice, coming to hug her tightly. "I'll hold your hand," he promised solemnly. "So you won't be scared."

Hannah's heart melted, and she wrapped him up in her own hug, kissing his forehead. "Deal. Let's go get dressed, okay?"

* * *

True to his word, Milo held her hand, even as they rode the elevator to the correct floor. Pepper was right there when the doors opened, greeting them with a smile.

"They're in the entertaining room, but if you need a minute, take one."

Hannah pulled a face. "I think I'd lose what confidence I have."

Pepper smiled. "Tony and I will both be there, you'll do fine."

"I hope so."

"Just start calling them Avengies to their faces and they'll become much less intimidating," Pepper laughed, eyes sparkling.

"Gabe told, didn't he?" Hannah sighed, laughing quietly.

"Oh, yes. He also invited us all to come down for the Legacy reunion."

Hannah made a face. "Oh, no, don't do it. You will regret it."

Pepper's halted her steps, turning to look at her. "Why?"

"The organized part of you will be screaming on the inside at all the chaos. It's nuts," Hannah warned.

"Pretty sure _they're_ nuts," Truman added with a snort. "They have a fondness for explosions that really gets out of hand. Though, they do take extra precautions for safety."

Pepper made a thoughtful face. "Hm. Maybe it's not such a good idea."

"Nope, we're going!" Tony called out.

"Spying on us through Jarvis?" Pepper retorted as they made the last few steps of their journey. "Really?"

"Nope. Steve started laughing and had to share with the class," Tony grinned back.

Milo's eyes lit up at the mention of Steve. "Captain America is here?"

Hannah looked down to where Milo stared up at her, swinging their joined hands giddily. "Um, maybe?"

"That's so cool! Uncle Gabe's bestest stories are 'bout him! He's awesome!"

"And we're just chopped liver," a blonde man smirked.

Milo made a face. "Ew, who would want to be that?"

"Figure of speech, kiddo," Tony answered, coming over to ruffle his hair. "Avengers, this is Hannah, Milo, and Carrots."

Truman huffed, rolling his eyes, but didn't correct him.

"Hannah," Tony continued, "You've met most of the others, already. Mr. Chopped Liver over there is Clint Barton, AKA pain in the butt. And next to him is the Golden Boy, Steve Rogers, though if you didn't know who he was, I'm shocked."

Hannah gave an awkward wave, not really meeting anyone's eyes. "Hi."

Milo, however, was the exact opposite, releasing Hannah's hand and bouncing around, happily introducing himself to the heroes and taking the attention away from his mother—not that Hannah minded the loss one bit. Charmed, they returned the greeting. Clint gave him a fist bump, Bruce got a handshake, and Rhodey exchanged high-fives with the tike. Tony, Pepper, and Steve (weirdly enough), received hugs. Milo also shook hands with Natasha, much to everyone's amusement and shock, though he immediately scurried back to his mother.

"We're keeping him," Clint declared.

"Why did Capsicle get a hug?" Tony looked at Hannah, who shrugged.

"He knows him from stories, maybe? Gabe tells a lot of them."

"So you and Gabe are close?" Steve smiled, though she noted it didn't really meet his eyes. She broke eye contact.

"His granddaughter's my best friend. We used to spend the summers down there." She smiled. "He's an interesting cup of tea."

His lip twitched up. "Meet Dernier?"

Hannah looked up again and laughed. "Oh, yeah. I think the only ones I haven't met are Uncle Dumb Dumb and Aunt Pegs, as Danielle calls them."

Uncomfortable at the mention of his former sweetheart, Steve glanced away and instead caught the tail-end of the guilty look on Tony's face when Hannah mentioned the two. He frowned, tilting his head to stare at Hannah, and then Milo, a little more closely.

Tony caught the pensive looks, panicked, and hurriedly motioned him over and pulled him into the other room.

"Don't say anything," he demanded.

"Why?" Steve wondered.

"It's a complicated story."

"I don't see what's complicated about it," he replied, folding his arms. "She's got Peggy's nose and lips, Howard's chin… the kid's got Dugan's eyes." He straightened. "I knew Peggy married Dum Dum, that's not news to me. What is news is that they're her grandparents."

"It's news to Hannah, too, she has no idea." Tony rubbed the scruff at his chin. "Gabe's trying to talk them into telling her at the Legacy thing this summer."

"Why haven't they told her already?"

"I don't know. I'm going to find that out though."

Steve was about to reply when they heard Milo's tiny voice call out, "Momma, there's knives everywhere. And a gun!"

Tony paled and returned to the room now in chaos, cursing Clint and Natasha's tendency to squirrel weapons away in odd places.

* * *

Hannah was eyeing the doorway where Tony dragged the Captain off through curiously, wondering what that was about.

She was distracted by Milo's comment of knives, eyes widening as panic iced her veins. It only got worse as he mentioned the gun.

"DON'T TOUCH IT!" she yelled, running over to where he was looking up at the underside of the mini-bar, just the right height to see under it. She scooped him up as Barton and Romanoff both scurried over, tugging the weapons from their hidey-holes and storing them away.

She caught her breath as she squeezed him tighter against her, ignoring the sound of Tony chewing out the two spies.

"Don't you ever touch a gun," Hannah cried, rubbing his hair to assure herself he was okay. "Not until you're much, much older and someone teaches you how to handle one."

"I wasn't gonna touch it!" he promised, eyes wide as he felt his mother's tears. "I was just pointing them out 'cause theys danger'us! Momma, stop cry'n!"

"Sorry, we may have forgotten to kid-proof," Clint apologized sheepishly as he moved past them, collecting more weapons from around the room. Tony spluttered as the pile on the coffee table grew larger. Truman watched the entire thing with interest while he hugged his sister, murmuring reassurances that things were okay as he steered her towards a couch.

"Inhaler," he insisted, pressing the spare he always carried for her into her hands. "No repeats of the other day, please." Hannah accepted it but didn't use it, still too upset.

Tony sagged when all pointy and potentially loaded items were stored away properly. Hannah was still on the couch with Milo curled up against her and begging her not to cry, almost in tears himself.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We're setting up new protocols," he told Pepper tiredly.

"Agreed. I'm on it."

He shook his head and rubbed his hands together, saying in a louder voice, "So, lunch anyone? Maybe wine or coffee while we wait?"

"No pizza," Hannah mumbled from her seat. "And I think I'll just drink water."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Why no pizza?"

Truman winced. "Just no pizza."

Hannah finally popped her head up to join the group once more, sniffling and pushing her hair from her face. "Sorry. Makes me nauseous."

Clint leaned over to Rhodey and whispered, "Twenty bucks says she's pregnant."

Rhodey made a face. "No way."

"Want to bet on it?"

Steve rolled his eyes at the two. "She's not pregnant."

Natasha popped up next to him. "Twenty says you're wrong."

"Twenty says I'm right," he argued.

Rhodey sighed. "I'm not part of this."

* * *

While they waited for the food to be sent up, Milo was entertained by Clint and Tony as Hannah conversed quietly with Pepper. Seeing an opportunity, Bruce came to stand nervously next to Truman and asked him if they could talk.

Truman's eyebrows parleyed with his hairline. "Uh, okay. Do we need to go somewhere else, or…?"

"Other side of the room should be okay," Bruce answered, already moving. "You're a medical major, right?"

Truman pushed his glasses up. "Yes."

"What's your opinion on your sister?"

"Uh, how so?"

Bruce looked over at the woman in question. "She woke up two hours before the sedation was supposed to wear off, at its earliest. That's not… normal."

Truman grimaced. "She's always gone through anesthesia faster than she's supposed to. When she was four or five, she had to go through a series of hip surgeries to repair her joints. She woke up half-way through the first three, even when they upped the sedatives after it happened the first time. Fast metabolism, they said."

The scientist frowned, crossing his arms. "And what do you think it is?"

Truman mirrored his posture, his own arms coming to rest across his chest defensively. "I think she may have a latent mutant gene or something of the like. I mean, yeah, she has asthma and other issues with her joints and such, but I can't remember her actually coming down with any infectious sicknesses. If she does get sick, it's over faster than it came."

Bruce hummed to himself. "Her DNA may warrant a bit more studying."

Truman blew out a breath. "Yeah. I just never had the training or the technology needed to do it."

"I still have the sample from where I did the paternity test for Pepper, if you'd like to come down to the labs sometime and look it over."

"I'm supposed to come down tonight to help Tony with a project, actually. I could stop by after?"

"I should be there."

"Great."

* * *

Tony drew the line at lunch when Hannah paled and fled to the bathroom when the smell of food hit her. When she returned to the dining room, Tony held an arm out to stop her from returning to her chair.

"You need to see a doctor," he said in a quiet voice.

She stepped back, looking at him. "Pepper is vetting some specialists. I'm fine, I promise."

"Obviously not, if you need a specialist! Something is very obviously wrong!"

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Nothing is wrong. It's one-hundred percent normal, alright? It's happened to me before, I should know."

"What is it then? Is it contagious? The Tower has air filtration systems, so it should stop an epidemic if it's really bad-"

"It's not contagious!" Hannah protested.

"Is it cancer? Jarvis wasn't at liberty to share much beyond a few of your levels being unusual, due to standard SI medical policy. He said HCG levels were really high, and if it's not contagious—it is cancer, isn't it? Not contagious, high HCG levels, nausea, tiredness, having to use the bathroom so often… Crap, crap, crap!"

Hannah was staring at him. He had tested her pee—or, well, Jarvis had—and kept up with when she used the bathroom? Ugh. "You're ridiculous."

"I am not!"

"No, you are. I don't have cancer, Tony, and I'm not contagious. I'm not even sick."

"Are you sure? Absolutely sure?

"Yes! I'm _pregnant_!"

He stood there, letting that sink in, his jaw slack. "PREGNANT?"

She crossed her arms. "YES. Will you please let it go now?"

"Pay up, old man," Clint grinned, making grabby hands at the teammate beside him.

Steve sighed, digging out his wallet.

Tony glared at them. "You guys knew?"

"Suspected," Clint smirked. "She just confirmed it. It was kind of obvious: sensitivity to smells, mood swings, avoidance of alcohol and caffeine… and the semi-noticeable bump."

"Not obvious enough for me to make smart investments, apparently," Steve sighed, mournfully passing Natasha the same amount he had passed Clint.

Tony glanced down. Hannah wrapped her hands around herself subconsciously as he stared carefully at her midsection.

"You, spawn, have been hiding more spawn in your deceptively flat stomach," he said.

"Spawn usually means in large numbers," Bruce put in not-so-helpfully. "Offspring would fit better."

Tony rolled his eyes before catching Hannah's expression. She was grinning, looking like the cat that ate the cream. "What?"

"My "deceptively flat stomach" contains twins, so maybe spawn fits? It is twice as large a number, so…"

Tony gaped at her before shaking his head. "No, no way." He leaned over to stare at her stomach again, this time poking experimentally. Hannah glared, swatting his hand away.

"No touching. I'm not a fur baby, I'm having a baby. Babies. Whatever. Hands away from the animal exhibit."

"Not the best analogy if you're trying to convince him you're not an animal," Truman pointed out, snickering.

"Rattlesnakes aren't furry," Natasha said calmly, eyes glittering with amusement. Hannah—who had until this point avoided looking at or being within three feet of the woman speaking—gave the Black Widow a slow, thankful smile.

"ABORT!" Clint hissed at Tony. "The pregnant and annoyed venom spitter has gained the allegiance of the venomous widow-maker. Both kill men when poked or provoked. Run if you value your lives."

"Don't be—" catching the sight of Romanoff's dark look in his direction, Tony amended his statement "—messing with the pregnant lady. Got it."

Natasha winked at Hannah and took a long drink of her coffee. Hannah didn't really know what to make of this development. Hadn't this same woman shot at her not long ago?

"Still, I'm pretty sure pregnant people are supposed to be bigger," Tony finished.

Hannah turned back to him. "I'm actually bigger now than I was with Milo at three months—I didn't start showing until I was almost six months along. I'll probably be a beached whale by then, this time around."

Tony grinned, letting it sink in that there were two more little Starks on the way. "When are you due?"

"I'm almost thirteen weeks, so sometime in December. Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

Hannah narrowed her eyes. "You're not making robotic baby furniture."

"Please?"

"No."

"Fine. Hey, Pep, remember back in 2008 when I said SI would start making baby bottles when we stopped making weapons? Ha! Hahahaha!"

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Irony, thy name is Tony."

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy:  
Guys, I am sooooo sorry it took so long. My family's been going through a lot of stuff lately, some of it good and some of it very crappy. We've lost family members, found out others don't have long to live, and also thankfully been spared from planning another funeral after my brother was in a freak accident. I've been busy trying to help keep our family above the water, so to speak, which is why this took so long. Hopefully, you enjoy this chapter, even if it may seem a little thrown together. I'll get around to fixing it if it doesn't satisfy me, but I'm too tired to really worry about it now. I'm replying to reviews via PM, but I do plan on personally thanking and answering guest reviews next chapter. For now, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed—You guys are all pretty cool!**


	10. Perturbation

"Hey, kid, let me see your phone."

Hannah gave Tony the stink-eye as she picked at a piece of chocolate cake Milo hadn't finished. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I've heard you go on rants about Captain Apple Pie's Apple products four times since I've been here. I'm not handing you my _iPhone._ "

They had finished eating lunch; now everyone was more or less loafing, letting Hannah adjust to their presence as they adjusted to hers. Surprisingly, it wasn't as awkward as she had thought it would be. To be fair and give credit where credit was due, though, Pepper _was_ running damage control to make sure it didn't become awkward enough that Hannah retreated into her shell.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Puh-lease. I just want to check something."

"No."

"I will give you—"

"No."

"But—"

"Absolutely not."

"I need to check it for bugs," he begged, holding out his hand.

Hannah sighed, pulled her phone from her pocket, and placed it in his open palm.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Tony snarked. He powered the device on, sighing before he held it back out to her. "Password."

"Nope."

He shrugged. "Fine. Jarvis?" Pause. Then, the signature click of an iPhone unlocking. "Thank you."

Hannah glared. "What happened to privacy protocols?"

"Only StarkPhones are equipped with those," Tony teased, thumb scrolling and tapping away at the screen. He seemed to find what he was searching for. "Ah-ha! I knew it!"

He slammed the phone onto the marble counter of the bar, shattering it, then swept the broken pieces onto the floor and stomped on them for good measure.

Hannah watched with a shocked expression before her lips tightened and she began to rail into Tony.

The others watched as she loudly argued with Stark, smirks beginning to stretch across their faces as Hannah threw some rather creative insults. Tony himself just stood calmly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"It was bugged," was his defense when she stopped to breathe.

"It was my _phone_ ," Hannah mourned. "And now there's glass _everywhere._ "

"The bots will take care of it."

"It had all of my contacts."

"Jarvis backed them up."

"And all of my photos."

"They're uploaded into the Stark private server."

" _Tony._ It was my _phone._ "

"I'll buy you a new one. Hey, even better, I'll _upgrade_ you to a StarkPhone."

Hannah groaned. "I don't _want_ a StarkPhone. I was perfectly content with my Apple product."

"Your Apple phone was BUGGED."

"I'm convinced that was a lousy excuse you made up."

"I'll make it look like an iPhone."

Hannah shook her head, giving up.

* * *

"Momma, when are we going home?" Milo asked that night.

Hannah wrapped an arm snuggly around Milo's shoulder, fingers carding through his thick hair. He would need a cut soon, she mused. "I don't know, buddy. Why? Do you want to go home?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I like it here," he began. "But I miss it."

"Mmmh, me, too. What do you miss?"

He cuddled closer to her. "My toys and my bed. And I miss Dee. She's having a baby, too, right?"

"Yeah, she is."

"That's nice," he yawned. "That means your babies and her babies can be friends."

Hannah smiled. "It is nice, isn't it? And you know what? I bet that they'll want a big brother to play with them."

He looked up at her hopefully. "You think so?"

"I do. I always wanted your Uncle Truman to play with me."

"Will I get a brother or sister?"

"You could get both. Or maybe you could have two sisters… or maybe even two brothers."

Milo wrinkled his nose, thinking. "I want sisters."

"Oh, really?" Hannah asked, tapping his scrunched nose. "You don't want a baby brother or brothers?"

"I mean, that'd be okay, too. But I think I want to be the man of the house like I am now."

Hannah laughed when he puffed his little chest out. "We'll see."

Their lighthearted conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"I'll go see who it is. Jarvis, can you help Milo find an _appropriate_ cartoon?"

" _Of course, Miss. I shall use the requested filters."_

* * *

Natasha knocked on the door to Hannah's quarters, checking the hallways for the other team members.

The door opened, Hannah peeking out nervously. "Oh. Hi."

"Can we talk?" Natasha asked.

Hannah stepped into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her. Natasha noted that no invitation inside was extended—not that she blamed her.

"You're afraid of me."

Hannah broke her silence at the comment. "Not to be rude, but I think that's a logical response, all things considered."

"Of course," she said coolly. "But I'm not the worst thing out there."

Hannah swallowed. "I know."

"Good. As Stark's daughter, you cannot, under any circumstances, become collateral damage. I will not allow this team to fall apart. If Stark becomes unstable, the foundation of the group is shaken. We rely on him and his tech. Is that understood?"

"Yes. I assume you're telling me to stay out of the way?"

Natasha's lips lifted. "That, too. But that's not always an option."

"So…?"

"You train and prepare yourself for the possibility that you'll need that training."

Hannah's expression turned stony. "I can't."

"Fury's orders."

"I don't take _orders_ from your director."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow. "You followed him here."

"Because my children were in danger."

"They're in danger now, more so if you lack the skills to protect them," she pointed out.

Hannah crossed her arms. "I'm already a high-risk pregnancy. I don't want to endanger that further."

"There are ways to avoid that. For now, we'd be sticking to the simple things. Simple self-defense, if you will."

Natasha watched the woman give her a disbelieving look. "I've already taken several self-defense courses."

"From the Black Widow?" Natasha challenged, arching an eyebrow.

Hannah rolled her eyes. "No, from Gabe Jones and Jaques Dernier." She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Though, if I understood Dernier's French correctly, they learned from a Black Widow and Peggy Carter."

Natasha smirked. "Ah. My apologies, then. It wasn't in your file."

Hannah made a face. "If you plan to update it, make sure to put that was the worst summer of my _life._ Gabe taught me French using the sink-or-swim method—everyone at his house spoke French until I learned. He dragged his old buddy out after he was sure I knew enough, though I still learned some interesting words from Dernier. Gabe wasn't happy with him, though that was because I cursed him out in French for putting me through the defense classes." She grinned unabashedly then. "Though he didn't _really_ get mad until I smarted off. It was " _Pardonnez mon anglais"_ that made him lose it _._ "

Natasha laughed, even as Jarvis told her she was requested in the labs by Tony.

Hannah watched her leave, her own lips curling into a small smile while thoughts spun in her head.

Natasha Romanoff was strange. Every action and word were pre-meditated, nothing was done without being planned out. She was a terrifying enigma to Hannah: able to go from a threatening assassin to a laughing, smiling woman in a matter of minutes. It effectively kept her on her toes, to be sure. Though, she thought, that was probably the purpose.

But she could still see that Natasha cared for the people in her life, in her own odd way of showing it. She cared for the Avengers, she cared for Pepper, and Hannah had the disconcerting feeling that she and Milo were slowly being pulled under that same umbrella on probation.

* * *

" _Hey, Carrots, are you coming or what_?"

Truman blinked at Tony's voice. "Did you replace Jarvis?"

" _No, he's carrying the call for me. So, are you coming down to the labs or what_?"

"Oh, right. The timeline thing. Uh, yeah. I'll be there in a second."

" _Great. Jarvis, Carrots has elevator priority. Hurry up, Ginger._ "

Truman shook his head. "He can't actually _see me,_ right?" he asked the AI when the call ended.

" _Visual feed is cut in the bathrooms and bedrooms, as well as other rooms at the occupant's request,"_ Jarvis reassured him. " _Audio and health monitors are still activated in all areas._ "

Truman shrugged. "Eh, works for me. I don't walk around naked."

" _Sir has the unfortunate habit,"_ was Jarvis's longsuffering answer.

"I did not need to know that," Truman grumbled, shaking his head. "Just… make sure to warn Hannah or me when he does that."

" _Of course._ "

* * *

"Nice of you to join us," Tony smarted off when Truman finally entered the lab. Bruce waved from the other side of the extensive space and then returned to his work.

The red-head tiredly rubbed his eyes before pushing his glasses off of the top of his head and back onto his nose. "Sorry."

"Helping watch Milo run you into the ground?" the billionaire asked with a grin.

Truman snorted. "They say kids are supposed to make you feel young, but I call bull. I took a _nap_. I'm twenty-six, not ninety. I have no idea how Hannah manages." He set a paper on the desk in front of Tony. "I went ahead and made the list while Milo watched cartoons. Most of the dates—or at least the general times—are on there."

"Thanks," he replied, pulling the paper towards him. "Jarvis, scan this and compile a list of dates from your databank where major events concerning Iron Man happened at or around the same time." He looked at Truman, nodding at a stool. "Take a seat, Carrots."

Truman sat.

Tony made a few motions, and a screen projected in front of them. "And so it begins," he joked as the dated events began to appear. It was easy to tell whose list was whose, even when the two were combined.

 _August 28, 2006: Hannah meets Jason at Duke. They date off and on._

 _April 17, 2007: Hannah and Jason start dating seriously._

 _February 12, 2008: Jason and Hannah are unofficially engaged._

 _February 26, 2008: Hannah's opening night, asthma attack, and seizure._

 _February 28, 2008: Crap hits the fan, AKA Hannah finds out she's adopted._

 _March 3-12, 2008: Spring Break. Hannah finds her birth mother (Bad, bad, bad. Never bring up). The jerk elopes with my sister._

 _May 20, 2008: Graduation. Hannah doesn't drink wine, basically announces she's pregnant._

 _December 23, 2008: Milo is born. One of the best days of my life._

 ** _February 13, 2009: Mr. Stark's Kidnapping_**

 _ February 14, 2009: Hannah and Jason take a break._

 _April 20, 2009: Hannah and Jason discuss divorce._

 ** _May 1, 2009: Mr. Stark's escape from the Ten Rings._**

 ** _May 3, 2009: Mr. Stark returns home._**

 ** _November 25, 2009: Press conference discussing and revealing Mr. Stark as Iron Man._**

 _November 27, 2009: Jason sucks up to Hannah. They get back together._

Truman's shoulders dropped, defeated, at the dates Jarvis highlighted. "Well, the dates don't match, but they're _close._ Jason and Hannah… that wasn't coincidence."

Tony sucked air through his teeth. "There are no coincidences with SHIELD. Just carefully orchestrated happenstances." He shook his head. "Jarvis, get Barton and Romanoff down here. Bruce, you can have Carrots now. I need to talk to the spy-sassins."

When the "spy-sassins" came a few minutes later, Truman and Bruce were already absorbed in whatever project it was that they were working on, successfully distracted from the conversation that was about to happen.

"What?" Barton wanted to know. "I was training."

Tony waved his hand. "Train later. We've got bigger fish to fry. You've got access to SHIELD files, right?"

Romanoff was unimpressed. "So do you."

"Yeah, not the point. Did you ever work with an Agent Lawson?"

"Jason Lawson?" Clint asked, now seemingly invested in the situation.

"Yeah, him."

"He worked STRIKE. Lost him on the Helicarrier," Clint said warily, crossing his arms. "Why?"

"Hannah was his wife," Natasha said quietly. "It was part of the redacted data in her file."

Barton tensed, spine cracking into place. "I have things I need to get done." He fled the room.

"What was that about?" Tony asked.

"According to the autopsy report, Lawson's death was credited to an arrow."

Tony turned to eye where the archer had fled. "Huh. Jarvis, lock Barton out of the elevator and all other areas of this floor."

Natasha gave him steely look, stepping towards him threateningly.

"Don't murder me, I'm going to talk to him," he defended. "Here." He passed her a comm. "Jarvis will link you into the conversation."

* * *

He found Barton trying to pry the elevator doors open.

"Yeah, no, that's not going to work," he called. "They're reinforced."

Clint stepped back, shoulders dropping. "What do you want?"

"To correct a misassumption. I don't care that you're the one who put an arrow through Jason Lawson's skull," Tony answered bluntly.

The archer swiveled on him. "You don't care that your grandchildren are fatherless because I put an arrow through a man's head?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "I find that hard to believe. Those kids are going to grow up without a dad."

Tony snorted. "I don't think Agent Lawson was the kind of man I would have wanted to raise my grandkids. For one, he was an _agent_ , he didn't care for his family outside of his mission. Want to know how I know? He _left_ them. Milo was a few months old and he walked out on Hannah because I wasn't in the picture anymore. He left when I was kidnapped by the Ten Rings, and he came back when I came out as Iron Man. And two, I thought we were through with this self-hatred thing. I mean, no dice, I get it, I spend days like that, too. But, then again, I didn't have my brain put in a blender and blame myself for things I didn't have control over."

"Stark—"

"Barton," Tony mimicked. "You were a puppet, capiche?"

"Will she know that?"

"I'll talk to her."

Clint shook his head. "No."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"No, I'll do it."

"Wow, okay, did not expect that. Just don't, you know, send her into a panic attack."

"No pressure there," Clint said wryly, letting a small amount of tension drain out of him. "I just have to bring up _everything_ about New York that she doesn't want to think about."

* * *

Hannah was fixing herself a glass of water when she heard a knock behind her. Specifically, the wall where the Iron Man shaped hole in the plaster was. Turning, she caught sight of a sheepish face peering inside.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, creeper," she said humorously. "Ever heard of a door?"

Clint Barton rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped inside. "I use vents most of the time."

"So the hole in the wall is a step up?" she asked.

"I—yeah."

"To each their own, I guess. So… why the visit?"

"I work for SHIELD."

Her eyes narrowed. "Okay?"

"I just… thought it would help explain things in a few minutes."

"Alright." She waved at the barstools. "Sit, I guess."

"Where's little man?"

"Asleep. It's nine p.m."

"Right. Sorry, I'll make this quick," he apologized, sliding onto one of the stools.

She took a sip of water, setting her glass down to shake her head. "Take as long as you need. I don't usually go to sleep until later."

"Stay up late to sleep through the night?" he asked.

"Yeah…" she said slowly. "You sound familiar with the tactic."

"We all have things that keep us up at night," he admitted, folding his hands. "What's keeping you?"

"Dreams."

"Of New York?"

"Sometimes. I had bad dreams before New York, though. They're not all new."

"I saw on your file that you visited a therapist for depression and anxiety. The dreams stem from that?"

"Maybe. I had separation anxiety for a long time when I was younger. They thought it was from being separated from my bio-mom."

"What do you think it was?" he asked, curious. He hadn't forgotten the reason he had come, he was just… stalling. Call him a coward, but he wanted to hold off that particular conversation.

Hannah chewed on the question for a moment. "I'm not sure. I was told that I was put up for adoption as soon as I was born, but… I get flashes sometimes. Bits and pieces of people I don't know."

Clint blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah. In the dreams, I'm getting pulled away from them. It's not… pleasant." She shook her head. "When I first found out about being a failed abortion, I thought it was behind those dreams. But that doesn't make sense when you mix in the people I see in them."

He studied her. "You're really open about this stuff, you know?"

She shrugged. "Well, you can't help other people with their own experiences if you're closed lipped about your own. Exchange of information, if you will. And hopefully you will, because I believe it's your turn to spill what's keeping you awake."

"About what concerns you that keeps me awake?"

"What keeps you awake in general."

"I've got a lot of blood in my ledger."

"What Avenger _doesn't_?" she asked.

Clint shook his head. "I've got _innocent_ _blood_ on my hands."

She was quiet before she offered, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't. But he also didn't want to skip straight to the part he would have to talk about Jason Lawson.

"SHIELD… they brought me in when I was sixteen."

"They start that young?"

"In some special cases. I was young when I got on their radar in a bad way."

"Wrong crowd kind of thing?" she asked.

"Yeah. I was a carnie since I was six, The Great Hawkeye, master marksman. When I was fifteen, I had a fall out with some of the other acts. They were stealing from the circus owner, wanted me to join. I turned them down. They weren't happy." He touched a small scar on the skin below his collarbone. "I left. Fifteen though, you don't have much of a chance at supporting yourself. I was a street rat for a few months."

"You were accepted into a gang," Hannah guessed.

He chuckled hollowly. "Not exactly. There was a gang, though, trafficking people. I heard about it, and… well, I snuck in, killed the ringleader. For a while, I had some nasty people after me. Some seeking revenge, others asking for help taking down other gang leaders."

"And you did it."

"Yeah, I did. These people… scum of humanity, I tell you, they did horrible things. I tried to keep assassinations to that kind of scum, and when I did, SHIELD wasn't really concerned. But…"

"You got in too deep."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're good at this. SHIELD ever try to recruit you?"

"Ha, as if," she snorted.

Clint smiled self-depreciatingly. "But yeah, I got in too deep. I started to not feel anything when I killed someone, began to not care who I killed. And that's when you know you've gone too far. So, SHIELD brought me in. My SO, Coulson, knocked a sixteen-year-old punk out and dragged him kicking and screaming into a shady spy agency and away from the edge he almost fell over. Did fall over," Clint sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I was a monster."

He folded his hands, resting his chin on them. "What has your dad told you about New York?"

"It's something neither of us likes to discuss, so, not much."

"Will it bother you if I talk about it?"

Hannah eyed him carefully. "Well, you have something on your chest you're wanting to get rid of, so… sure, go ahead."

"I'll stop if it's too much," he promised.

"Deal."

Clint sighed, taking in a few deep breaths before he began. "Loki, Thor's brother. The lunatic behind the attack."

Hannah's fingers curled around her glass. "Yeah?"

"He had this scepter… Thor said it was some kind of stone, it gave off this energy…"

"Bad energy, I'm guessing."

"The way Loki used it. It… the energy could alter brain waves. Hypnotize people. Brainwash, more like. He threw my brain into a blender with the stupid thing, turned me back into the monster Coulson pulled out of hell all those years ago. I turned against the agency that helped me come back from the edge." He stared at the marble counter. "People died, _good_ people. Coulson was one of them."

"And Jason was another one," Hannah said quietly, giving him a tremulous smile.

He bowed his head, taking shuddering breaths. "How'd you guess?"

She sighed. "It fit. You come here, say you're from SHIELD, talk about things that keep you up at night, and then ask if you can talk about New York. If it didn't involve my husband, I would have been shocked."

"I'm sorry."

"Why'd you tell me?"

"Because you deserved to know. And because I couldn't look you in the eye if I didn't."

"Well, now I know," she said in a whisper.

Clint stood up. "I'll go. I'm sorry to keep you up."

Hannah stopped him. "Listen, Mr. Barton—"

"No Mister, just Clint or Barton," he mumbled, looking at the ground. "Look, don't bother. I'll have Fury station me somewhere else."

Hannah held out an arm to bar him from walking further, dropping it when he paused. "Look, don't… don't play the blame game. Let me have a few days to get through this, alright? I'm upset now, but what happened? That wasn't on you. I can accept that. It'll just take me a few days."

"I'm surprised you haven't slapped me," he admitted. "Or shot me. Or—"

"A part of me was relieved that he was gone," she blurted.

Clint froze. "What."

Hannah blew out a long breath. "We were off and on, even when we were married. He was more married to his work, and even if I didn't know what he _actually_ did, I could tell. He wore a mask. And yes, when I found out I was a widow, I panicked. I cried and I mourned. But some part of me that still won't _shut up_ was relieved because what we had felt real but not genuine."

He stared at her, and she sniffed.

"I've never said that out loud to anyone," she admitted. She bit her lip, dropping her shoulders. "Jason and I… we were complicated. When he died, I was more worried about my children growing up without a father than I was about living without a husband. When I found out about his work with SHIELD… I wasn't as worried about that anymore because I would rather them grow up without a father than with a father who was so much of a liar that he couldn't tell his wife she was nothing but a mission."

"But you loved him."

"Oh yeah, I loved him. Do I still love him? Yes. But not as much as before because I'm starting to think he didn't love me. We had good times together, moments that I'll treasure, but they're—they're _tainted_ now."

Clint shook his head. "If you ever need anything—"

"I'll let you know."

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean it, okay? Least I could do."

* * *

Pepper's private cell, the one that rang for select people, rang during the executive board meeting. Hannah's name scrolled across the screen. Startled—Hannah had never called her in the time she'd been in the Tower, which was nearing a month—she excused herself from the room to answer her cell.

"Hello? Hannah?"

" _Pepper, I know you're at work, and I am really sorry to interrupt_ , _but I need help._ "

"Not interrupting at all, the meeting wasn't going well anyway."

" _Meeting?_ "

"Don't worry about it. What's wrong?"

" _I think I'm going crazy._ "

Pepper's eyebrow hiked. "How so?"

" _I cook, right, because I don't like ordering out? Well, I make something—or at least **think**_ _I make something—but when I turn around for even a second, it's gone when I turn back! And Tony is no help at all! I told him I thought I was going crazy, and he said, 'Starks are always crazy'."_

Pepper sighed. "I don't think you're going crazy."

" _Then what **is** happening? I'm losing my mind—every time I bake something it goes missing! Poof, gone! I'm running out of pots and pans to use!"_

"Is your milk disappearing?"

She could hear Hannah opening the fridge.

" _The jug is still there."_

"But it's disappearing faster than you're using it?"

 _"Milo! Hey, buddy! Did you drink any milk?"_ Milo's muffled answer made Hannah groan. " _Yes, apparently it is disappearing._ "

"You have vermin. Of the human kind, I'd wager. I'll take care of it after work."

" _Which one?_ "

"What?"

" _Which one is stealing my food?"_

Pepper chuckled. "Depends on which way they're coming in. You have a hole in the kitchen wall, it wouldn't be hard to slip in and out quickly. Check the vent cover."

" _The vent cover? As in the vent cover a Clint Barton would use?"_

"Yes."

" _I'm looking at it right now."_

"Does it look loose?"

" _It's—you're kidding me! Pepper, he replaced the screws with a hinge and inside latch!"_ she seethed, annoyed.

"Clint."

" _Which apartment?_ "

"Third from the elevator. What are you—"

" _I'm getting my pots and pans back. And he's going to **wash**_ _them if they're still dirty."_

Pepper shook her head, laughing softly at the steel in Hannah's voice. "Watch out for the nerf guns," she warned.

" _If he has the nerve to shoot me, I'll borrow Tony's repulsors. What kind of person takes a pregnant woman's food?!"_

"One who wants to incur her wrath," Pepper said drily. "Good luck."

* * *

Steve and Clint were both in Clint's kitchen when someone began raising Cain on the door.

 _Bang, bang, bang!_

Steve raised his eyebrows. "You didn't tick off Natasha, did you?"

Clint laughed. "Nah, she doesn't knock, she just comes barreling at me."

"Then who _did_ you tick off?"

" _Clint Francis Barton_! _Open the door, Francy Pants!"_

"Is that Hannah?" Steve asked curiously, watching as Clint swept several dirty dishes under the kitchen sink. "What are you doing?"

"Don't say a word," Clint hissed. "That cake? I… may have obtained it in a manner that made her less than happy."

"The chocolate cake…" Steve said slowly. "That we _ate_."

"Yes."

"You took a pregnant woman's chocolate cake…"

" _The all-seeing eye told me you're in there! Open the door!"_

"And I am regretting it, yes," Clint grumbled, going to answer the door. "Hey, Hannah! How's the kids?"

"Well, seeing as they're the ones who wanted cake, not happy," she said sourly. "Remember how you said if I needed anything to ask? I'm asking. _I need you to stop taking my food._ "

Clint winced when she crossed her arms. "Uh… it was very good?"

"Was the chicken casserole good, too? And the blueberry muffins that Milo begged for this morning?" she asked. "What about every other thing you snuck from the kitchen?"

"Uh…"

She rolled her eyes. "Where are the pans?"

"Under the sink," Steve answered. Hannah peered around Clint to look at him.

"Did he eat it, too?" she asked Clint.

"Yep. What? Don't give me that look, Cap. You ratted me out, I ratted you out. We're even."

"You two may be even, but _we're_ not," Hannah reminded them. "Which is why one of you is going to wash the dirty dishes and bring them back to my apartment."

"What about the other one?" Clint asked.

"The other one is going to go to the store to get me chocolate and a new gallon of milk. Then you're _both_ going to make up what you ate by cooking while I supervise at the kitchen counter."

* * *

The Tower's occupants began to fall into a somewhat predictable routine.

Some of the "boy band" still snuck into Hannah's apartment to steal her food, but they _did_ become more considerate about it, leaving something in return. Sometimes it was a toy for Milo or something for the babies. Other times it was chocolate, or something of the like. She was sure Barton was ninety percent responsible for the disappearance of food items—Milo had become the proud owner of several nerf guns and bows recently—but since there had also been a larger portion of food _disappearing_ and several Captain America comic books _appearing_ , she knew that the Commandos' captain had stopped in, too. Eventually, she wised up and started making double when she cooked so she wouldn't have to cook again.

Truman was invited to spend more time in the labs, an almost-intern for Dr. Banner. Hannah wasn't really sure what project it was that they were working on, but her brother was elated to work on it, so she wasn't concerned. Maybe she would have been, had she known _she_ was the project, but as she didn't… well.

Hannah and Pepper had went through the vetted specialists last week and settled on an OB doctor who, thankfully, signed all the required NDAs and was able to come to the Tower for appointments. The babies were one-hundred percent healthy, much to her relief, and the morning sickness finally began easing up.

Tony liked to tag along sometimes to the appointments—when they weren't extremely personal, that was. Hannah caught him videoing the four-month ultrasound, trying to be discreet. She laughed and asked for prints, keeping a few for herself and giving the rest to Tony. If she caught him staring wonderingly at the little black and white blobs for the next few weeks, she didn't say anything.

As for the father-daughter situation, Tony found Hannah came around more when he asked, and Hannah found that he asked more than she expected. Usually it was for some inane reason that he sought her out. He wanted to show Milo an invention or idea, or he wanted her opinion on something. Sometimes, however, he just came to talk.

They avoided heavy topics when Milo was in the same room, but on the days that Truman volunteered to take the tike to play for a few hours, the "kid-friendly" filter was removed.

On those days, Tony told her the gorier details of how he became Iron Man. She listened to him talk about how Stane betrayed them, how he had woken up hooked to a car battery with an electro-magnet crammed in his chest cavity, and how he escaped his captors with the help of a man he couldn't save but who had saved him.

"What was his name?" she asked quietly.

"Yinsen. Ho Yinsen."

She couldn't help the small snort that escaped.

Tony grinned knowingly. "Yeah, I gave him hell about the name, too. He was a good man—he should have made it out instead of me."

Hannah was silent for a long moment before she spoke again. "He must have thought you were worth every bit of the sacrifice."

He looked at her. "A man who has everything, yet nothing," he quoted, dropping off in thought. "That's what he said when I told him I didn't have a family. And then, when he got hit, he told me not to waste my life. He wasted his last damn breath telling me not to waste mine."

Hannah didn't talk as much as Tony when it came to her issues—not that he talked much about his own, outside of the times he spoke of becoming Iron Man, and none of that was ever repeated more than once. But she did still tell him of when she found out she was adopted, and of her search for her biological parents.

"Let me get this straight. You didn't know you were adopted _or_ that you had a twin?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I was eighteen when I found out _accidentally_. The family doctor let it slip that I was aborted when he mentioned all my medical "conditions" were probably linked to the procedure. When I confronted Mom and Dad, I thought it was _Mom_ who had had the procedure. That's when they told me I was adopted."

Tony whistled. "Harsh. And I thought my dad's parenting sucked."

She chuckled. "Well, it was still better than when I met my bio-mom. That experience sucked."

"She turned you away?"

"Oh yeah. Told me that she had no idea who you were, that she was drunk when she got pregnant and that she got drunk when she found out she _was_ pregnant. A-plus parenting skills, huh?"

Tony swallowed. "Did she tell you why she did it?"

"The abortion? I believe it went something along the lines of 'you are the tiny parasite that almost ruined my career in law'." Hannah gave a little shrug. "My half-sister didn't seem to ruin her career, but she was out of school and married then, so that probably helped."

"Does her husband or your half-sister know about you?"

"Nope," Hannah replied, popping the 'p'. "Her husband came in while I was in her office. She, uh, pretended she didn't know who I was."

She met her biological mother's husband, shook hands with him where her own mother wouldn't touch her. Was introduced as "just another case" to him.

 _"Hey, honey. You ready? We gotta go, Lilly's waiting for us in the lobby. Oh, who's this?"_

 _"I…I have no idea."_

 _"I—I'm Hannah."_

 _"Hey, good to meet you. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in the middle of something, babe. Do I need to come back?"_

 _"No, I'll just be a second. Hannah, I don't know where you got your information from. It's not correct. I don't know what you're referring to, and I can't take any more cases right now. Raymond down the hallway, perhaps he can help you with your, uh, civil dispute."_

 _She watched them drive off in their sleek Mercedes from her place on the law firm's sidewalk, heart aching as the little girl with blonde hair, big bows, and blue eyes waved at her from her car-seat. Lilly, her half-sister, part of a family portrait that had no room for one more daughter._

"What did you do after?" he asked curiously. "I assume you were in a funk for a while after, yeah?"

"Jason was there when I came out. We drove back to New Orleans to meet up with the other students to finish out our break."

"You didn't go back home?"

"He convinced me not to."

Tony scoffed. "Yeah, like he convinced you to marry him that same trip?"

Hannah rolled her eyes. "It wasn't sudden, dummy. We'd been dating on and off for two years at that point."

"I still can't believe you eloped," he grumbled.

Hannah laughed. "Why does everyone find that so hard to believe?"

"You just seem… old-fashioned? Like the kind of girl who marries her high school sweetheart at eighteen in an old white church."

Hannah snorted. "Apart from the church wedding, I _was_ that girl, thank you. And like old-fashioned people never eloped." She rolled her eyes. "Most people now just say screw them, let's get married. They don't give a rats-rear about who objects."

"Wasn't your brother on the trip?" Tony asked.

"Yep."

"Was he there?"

"Nope."

"Who witnessed?"

"It was Mardi Gras, the streets were packed. Finding two witnesses wasn't hard," she said dryly.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke."

"The whole fiasco sounds like a bad joke. Spill, come on."

Hannah sighed. "A burly lumberjack and a Cajun street thief."

"The streets were packed," he said slowly. "And you picked out a fake-Canadian and a street thief to witness your marriage?"

"He was _actually_ Canadian," she huffed. "And the street thief paid for our wedding, so it wasn't the worst choice."

"The street thief paid for your wedding?"

"Yes?"

"From the money he made thieving?"

"No. He came from old money, he just thieves for fun." Hannah smiled. "He was actually really charming. We were just going to go to the courthouse and get a license, but he insisted on taking me dress shopping and letting us marry under his backyard gazebo."

"The street thief took you _dress shopping_?" He squinted at her. "Are you yanking my chain?"

"No. Here." She handed him her phone. "See? Wedding dress, gazebo."

Tony squinted at the man next to her. "Uh-hu. Is that Jason?"

"He's kissing me, who else would it be?"

"Why's he in a t-shirt? Did Mr. Street Thief not take your husband tux shopping?"

"He didn't like Jason as much," Hannah admitted sheepishly. "I'm the one he took a shine to."

"Should have went with the thief's judgement," he muttered to himself. He thumbed over to the next photograph, only to go pale as a sheet. "Hannah… Are those your witnesses?"

She looked over his shoulder. "Yeah. That's them."

"But—but—"

"But what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"That's Remy LeBeau and Logan," he hissed, becoming a little green.

"Okay…?"

He looked at her incredulously. "That's _Wolverine_ and _Gambit_. Your witnesses were _X-Men!_ "

Hannah began laughing. "I knew who they were. Or at least who the Canadian was. He comes to the Legacy Barbeque sometimes, old friend of the Commandos."

Tony was gaping. He finally put his head in his hands and took deep breaths. "I need a scotch."

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy:**

 **sweetdixie.17 : Aw, thanks! Hopefully those breadcrumbs make sense in future chapters! ;)**

 **Theodosa Burr jr : Here's that update! I'm glad you've been enjoying it!**

 **M: I smiled sooo big when I read your comment; it truly made my day. I'm glad to hear you think my story is unique. Also, thank you so much for being kind and understanding about when I continue this story. It means a lot.**

 **Izzybug: Thank you! I'm glad you thought it funny! I'm a big cheese ball sometimes, and I _know_ I was being one when I wrote that. Good to hear that it was one of your favorite chapters! If I'm honest, it's one of my favorites, too! ;) And thanks for the family concern. We're doing much better! :D**

 **JesiLea : Awesome! Hopefully you'll be happy with this update as well! And yep, babies are out in the open now!** :)

 **Whoops, this chapter was all over the place. Hopefully things make sense, but if they don't let me know and I'll fix it. I just needed something to cheer me up, so... yeah. That, um, bit with Wolerine and Gambit making an almost cameo at the end was a funny plot bunny that popped into my head when I read somewhere the James Howlett, AKA Wolverine, worked with the Howling Commandos in some of the comics. The bunny hopped a little further when I remembered that scene in one of the X-Men movies where Gambit and Logan meet in New Orleansand I thought, "Hey, didn't Hannah go to New Orleans for spring break?" The dates probably don't match up, but I'm taking creative liberties because I love those characters.**

 **BTW, anyone picking up on the breadcrumbs and want to comment on it? Some of them I try to make obvious, but... ;) Also, I'm at a kind of crossroads with this story. I'm not planning on pairing Hannah with anyone at the moment, for those of you who were worried, but I _am_ planning on making a split at some point and starting an AU _with_ a pairing if anyone would be interested? Let me know if you would like to see something like that! It would be highly likely to involve Time Travel and/or a Soulmate AU, because I've fallen in love with those.**


	11. Accumulation

"Something bothering you?" Tony asked, watching Hannah edgily riffle through the cabinets in the common kitchen. He poured himself a large cup of coffee and sat next to Milo at the table.

"Do you know where Cap keeps his weird protein bars?"

He blinked. "Why do you need Roger's protein bars? The caloric intake on those things is nuts—literally. And, really, you can call him something other than Cap."

Hannah made a small scoffing noise. "Call him what? Mr. Rogers?"

"If the old man clothes fit."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm used to Gabe and the others calling him Cap. Until he tells me to call him by his name and he stops calling me Mrs. Lawson, that's what he's addressed as."

"You'd think you'd be on first name basis, what with you stealing his protein bars or something. Jarvis has to special order those," he pointed out, smirking.

Hannah grimaced. "It's a trade-off. He steals my food, I steal his food."

"You don't have a metabolism running at a quadruple rate, though."

"I'm not taking the whole box, I just need a few until I can get my own," she grumbled, returning to her search.

"Why the hell do you need that many calories, anyway?"

She stepped back from the cabinet, sighing as she pulled away empty handed. "I'm underweight."

Tony paused. "Under-weight? I just thought you were petite. Since when are you underweight?"

"Since I've always had trouble putting on weight and now have two extra metabolisms to worry about," she huffed. "It's never really been an issue until now."

"Until now?"

"The OB expressed some concerns. According to my levels and few tests, I've only been getting half of the nutrients I need."

"…Half. Only half?"

"I know, right? I feel like I'm always eating, but apparently not."

"How many calories are they recommending?"

"Eight thousand. It's obscene."

Tony spit out his coffee. "Eight thousand?"

"Well, that was entertaining," Clint said from the doorway as he strolled in, followed by Natasha and Steve. "Eight thousand what?"

"Calories. They want her to eat eight thousand a day," Tony coughed, spluttering.

Clint whistled. "Sure you got the right number? SHIELD puts agents on that kind of intake when they're under intense training."

Hannah's eyes lit up when Steve made a beeline for the cabinets. "Toss me one of those bars?" she asked. "Please?"

He looked at her, thought for a moment, then dug into the cabinet and threw her a bar.

"Thanks!" she chirped, tearing the packaging open and taking a bite. She made a face. "Bleh. Now I know why you take my food. This stuff is gross."

"You don't have to eat it," Tony said pointedly.

Hannah shrugged. "I kind of do, actually." She wrinkled her nose at the remaining bar. "Do they have any different flavors?"

Tony sighed, pinching his nose. "The Tower kitchens are equipped with dieticians. I'm sure they can whip up something better than those for you to nibble on."

"That'd be great," Hannah answered, taking another bite. "But I'm hungry now."

After that conversation, the amount of food snuck out of Hannah's kitchen decreased, and the Captain America comic books that still appeared began to be accompanied with protein bars. Hannah wasn't complaining. So, what, a casserole went missing every few days? She got to eat something in a few bites instead of having to eat several plates to keep up with the demand the babies put on her body.

* * *

"Alright, tell me if you hear anything else from her. Oh, hey, Tony just walked in. I'll let you go," said Hannah, phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. She was on the couch, legs curled beside her, dressed in her yoga pants and Duke sweatshirt.

Tony made a motion behind him, asking if he should go, but Hannah waved him back in. He watched as she returned to her conversation: she looked upset.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll call you later," she promised her listener. "Yes, I'll tell him you love him. Okay. Bye, Mom."

"She loves me?" Tony teased as she hung up the phone.

Hannah, still looking peaked, gave a small smile. "Well, if you consider the fourth of Milo's DNA that belongs to you, then sure, why not."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I never thought I'd be a grandpa. Don't you dare tell Cap I said that word."

"Reaping what you've sown?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, karma bit my a—" he halted suddenly, making a face. "—butt. Karma bit my butt."

Hannah's eyebrows rose. "You know Milo isn't here, right?"

"Carrots said you have a swear jar. Thought I'd practice," he offered as explanation, lips curling into a humorous grin.

She snorted. "I left it at home."

"So, we'll make a new one."

"You actually want me to make a swear jar? Why?"

"To mess with Birdbrain."

Hannah laughed. "You'll probably end up paying more into it than he will."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You have such little faith in me."

The comment caused Hannah shoulders to dip, a stressed noise escaping her as she sat. His eyebrow hiked. "What's the matter with you?"

"Would it surprise you to find out that it's my mother-in-law?"

"What'd she do?"

"She's trying to take me to court."

"On what grounds?" Tony asked, skeptical.

Hannah laced her fingers together underneath her chin, looking up to meet his gaze. "She wants custody of Milo. First it was calling social services if I didn't move in with the Sterns, now she's threatened to have him taken forcibly by court order if I don't terminate my parental rights."

Tony scoffed. "Over my dead body. What is she, nuts?"

"She thinks she has a solid case," Hannah admitted, fidgeting with her sweatshirt sleeve.

"And what's her case against you?"

"That I'm an unfit mother. I have a history of anxiety and other medical issues. It's better than it was in college, but she's making it out to be crippling my ability to parent."

"Your ability to parent is fully functional. Her "grounds" are ludicrous, she'd be kicked out of the court room before five minutes had passed."

Hannah shook her head. "Tony, she's an entitled woman who runs in powerful political circles. Even if she didn't have what may be considered a strong case, her connections make the outcome look bleak. My parents have held her off for as long as they could. I blocked her number after Jason's funeral, but that only made her go through my parents and friends."

Her eyes were wet. "I don't know what to do."

Tony sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're not going to lose your kiddo, kiddo. Alright? I'm not going to let that happen."

Hannah ducked her head, wiping at her eyes. "If you get involved—"

"It'll be a media circus, I know. But I'd rather drag Fury's secrecy plan through the mud than lose a custody case to the Sterns."

She shuddered. "I don't want Milo near either one of them."

He leaned over, laying a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. "We'll keep them as far away as possible, maybe even try for a restraining order, just in case. And I'll talk to Fury, SHIELD should be able to keep this case out of the courts."

Hannah laid her head on his shoulder, curling up against him. "I hope so."

They sat in thoughtful silence.

"Would you like to pack up your house and bring your things here?" Tony asked suddenly.

"I don't know, Tony, that's my home. I grew up in that house."

"With everything that's going on, Hannah… It's dangerous to go back. There's no protection there."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I don't want to sell it."

Tony nodded. "Then you won't. After we go to Gabe's barbeque next week, we can stop by Wilmington and let you get what you want. I'll look into establishing some kind of security there, installing Jarvis, that kind of thing. You'll be able to go back when sufficient measures are put in place, but it will take some time."

Hannah gave a shaky smile, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Tony."

He scoffed. "For what? It's nothing."

"Liar," she said softly. "It's a lot more than nothing."

Uncomfortable, Tony asked, "Don't you have an appointment to be at?"

"And don't you want to be there to find out the genders?"

He scrambled off the couch, pulling her up behind her. "Really? Today?!"

She grinned at his excitement. "We were going to do it last week, but you were out on an assemble so we decided we'd wait."

He laughed, hugging her. "I love you, kid."

Hannah paused, blinking and opened mouth. Tony didn't seem to realize what he said, leaving the room to call Pepper. Hannah gave a short bark of laughter when he popped his head back in, commenting, "Don't overthink it," before he disappeared again.

So he did know what he had said, she thought. Good to know.

* * *

Pepper rolled over in the bed as Tony came into their shared apartment, a silly grin on his face.

He leaned down to kiss her, answering her unasked question. "Identical twins. Girls."

Pepper blinked sleepily up at him. "I thought they'd be fraternal."

"So did everyone else, apparently," he laughed. "Surprise?"

Pepper smiled. "They'll be spoiled rotten, won't they?"

He scoffed. "As if I'd let them be anything else."

She caught his hand as he moved to change. "Don't get carried away, Tony."

He paused in shedding his t-shirt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hannah's the parent, you're the grandparent. Don't be overbearing, alright? Remember to let her make the decisions," she said gently. "It's the most common argument my sister has with my parents."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Keep me in check?"

"I'll try," she teased, releasing his hand.

Tony quickly changed and then laid beside her, letting out a long sigh as he sank into the mattress. "God, my mom would have loved to be here for this. Girls, Pepper. Twin girls."

Pepper chuckled. "What did Milo think?"

"He was elated. Apparently the kid wanted sisters."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Something about being the man of the house."

"I can only imagine," she laughed, shutting her eyes. "We'll have to throw her a baby shower."

"Crap, I forgot. Should we—"

"I'll take care of it."

"But—"

"Tony," she said gently, opening one eye to look at her panicked fiancée. "It can wait until morning."

"Right," he sighed, letting his own eyes close. "Right."

* * *

Truman, after Hannah and Milo went to bed, immediately made his way to the labs.

Bruce glanced up with a smile. "You look tired."

Truman grinned. "Well, tikes and pregnant women do a number on you, you know? What'd you find?"

The scientist took his glasses from his lab coat pocket, setting them on the tip of his nose. "Come look."

Truman eyed the data on the screens. "Which sample is Hannah's?"

"Both."

Truman's nose scrunched as he leaned closer. "But they're different."

"They're from different times. One is the sample I already had—from the paternity test Pepper requested. The other is a blood sample taken during her stay in the med-bay."

"Weird," Truman muttered.

Bruce moved the screen to a different slide. "Look at the first strand. It looks normal, but if you break it down… Instead of the usual phosphates, deoxyribose, and nitrogenous bases that usually build DNA, it's got chemicals most people have never seen before acting in their places. The usual chemicals are still there, of course, or else other people would have picked up on this, too."

Truman turned to him. "You said most people? Have you seen them before, the chemicals?"

Bruce grimaced. "Yeah, when I studied Captain America's DNA in an attempt to recreate the super soldier serum. And all of Culver knows how that ended."

The blood drained from Truman's face. "Hannah—"

Bruce held up his hand and continued to speak.

"There's traces of gamma radiation, too."

"Radiation?"

"Where it's from is above your clearance level, unfortunately, but the signature it gives off is specific. Whatever Hannah has in her, it's almost certain that Tony has it, too."

Thinking quickly, Truman asked, "Howard Stark?"

"I'd have to test the theory, but yes."

Hannah's brother went quiet, staring at the DNA helixes twirling on the monitor. "Why's the second strand different?" he asked in a low voice.

"I would think it would be because whatever's in your sister's veins activated when she needed to heal. Certain genes turned on while others turned off."

"Her metabolism burns through things faster than it should for her weight and age," Truman muttered. "But we only noticed it when she was injured or something like that."

"She must have some kind of advanced healing. Not much to warrant someone looking into it, but enough to come off as odd to anyone who noticed."

Truman rubbed the back of his neck. "I think we may need to bring Mr. Stark in on this."

"I think you're right. Call him Tony though—calling him Mr. Stark usually seems to send him off on a rant about his father."

"Good to know."

Bruce looked at the data and shook his head. "Jarvis, analyze what you can and send it to Tony, please. Mark the project file urgent."

"Of course, sir."

Truman listened to the instructions with a grimace. "This is going to suck."

Bruce snorted in acrid amusement. "That's one way to put it."

* * *

"You okay?"

Hannah fixed Clint with a blank look as she shoved another spoonful into her mouth. She took a moment to swallow, then asked, "Why?"

She didn't know what it said about her that she wasn't startled by a man making a random appearance in her kitchen at twelve in the morning. Probably that it had happened too many times to bother her anymore.

"Because it's midnight and you're eating hot fudge cold… and straight out of the jar."

Hannah made a face, sticking the spoon back in the jar and stirring to gather another spoonful. "Honestly, no."

Clint took a seat in the bar stool across from her. "You want to talk about it? I mean—" Clint wrinkled his nose. "—unless it's lady things or something. In that case, peace out, homie."

"I found out the genders."

"And…?"

"Girls. Probably identical, because they share a placenta. Which is ridiculous because it isn't even identical twins that run in my family, it's fraternal twins." Hannah rubbed her temple. "I have no idea what I'm going to do with girls. And that sounds ridiculous because I am a girl, but… goodness. They're going to grow up and be teenagers and—and—get boyfriends! And I'm about as scary as a bunny! I can't give a teenage boy the shovel talk, he'll laugh at me!" Clint's lips twitched. Hannah scowled at him, jabbing the spoon in his direction. "Stop laughing, I'm serious!"

"Just get Nat to give them the shovel talk. You know firsthand that she's scary, she owes you one for that anyway."

Hannah hummed in agreement, eating one last spoon of cold hot fudge before she shoved the jar back into the fridge, spoon still inside the glass. She frowned before shrugging and shutting the refrigerator door. "I'm too tired to care that I just violated one of my pet peeves."

Clint shrugged. "Maybe they'll leave it alone if they know you were eating straight out of it."

"Probably not, since you all still drink straight out the same carton of milk."

"Eh, you're right. They'll at least get a different spoon, though."

Hannah made a face. "Bleh. I've given up on them not raiding my fridge. They all have their own but do they use them? Nooo, they come raid the pregnant woman's fridge and steal the things she craves."

Clint snorted. "They're never here to shop for their own kitchens, and no one really wants the responsibility of stocking the communal kitchen. It's convenient."

"It's sad. I can't drink from my own milk because of milk moochers who refuse to use a glass."

"Yep."

She scowled. "I need to get that hole in the wall fixed."

"Wouldn't stop them," Clint pointed out. "They'd still find a way in."

"All they have to do is ask Jarvis to compile a list of their usual food items and he'd send it to them."

He shrugged. "Maybe they like the company. Or the fact that you actually cook. Hey, it's a literal hole-in-the-wall restaurant to them!"

"It's getting ridiculous. An entire pot of soup went missing last night while it was cooling. The entire pot."

"Which wasn't much in light of some of the super metabolisms that live here."

Hannah groaned. "Not the point. If they want to eat my food, I'll give them a recipe."

"But then they'd have to cook it."

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Yes, they'd have to cook it. What do you think I do, snap my fingers?"

"Sure, make the poor superheroes cook. It's not like they save the world on a daily basis or anything."

"If they can fry supervillains, they can manage the same with food," she pointed out. "You know that Tony has a fleet of chefs at his beck and call, right? They don't really even have to cook!"

Clint pursed his lips. "They prefer not to eat anything that hasn't been cooked in front of them. An occupational hazard of this job is the possibility of being poisoned."

"They eat take out all the time! And I know for a fact that everything coming into this part of the Tower is screened!" Hannah narrowed her eyes as he smirked at her. "Aaaand you're riling me up on purpose."

He grinned, holding up his hands. "Guilty."

Hannah groaned.

Clint laughed, shaking his head. "Look, don't stress so much, alright? It's tough right now, yeah, but you'll figure it out. And, you've got people in your corner when you need them."

She gave him a tiny smile. "It takes a village, huh?"

"Your kids are Starks, sweetheart. It doesn't just take a village, it takes the fricken' Avengers."

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy: Why hello, dear sweet readers! I see everyone loved the mention of two certain x-men in the last chapter. XD I'm glad that worked out, lol. Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter as well. The next chapter should be much easier for me to plan out and write, thankfully, since I got this one out of the way.** **Forgive me for not replying to comments this update, things have been rather hectic around here and I really just want to post and get it over with. Horrible of me, I know. ;)**


	12. Intermission

**Piper and Snippy: Setting things up for the next chapter. This one is a bit short but there was really no good place to put it... Some favorite characters make an appearance here! Think Maple Syrup and Gumbo... nevermind, that's stereotypical. But you get the point!  
**

* * *

"So," Tony said giddily, rubbing his hands together. "Who is going and who is staying?"

Hannah shot him a wary look. "You're not serious?"

"It will be a team-building exercise!"

"You're dragging everyone down to Gabe's under the guise of a team-building exercise? With your luck, it will end up being a team breaking venture."

"You wound me, spawn," Tony sniffed. "Come on, where is your wild side?"

"I left it at home."

"Excellent, North Carolina is on the way."

She rubbed her forehead. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Gabe said you never missed a reunion. I didn't figure you would want to miss this one."

Hannah narrowed her eyes at Tony. "Okay, what is this really about?"

"What is what really about?"

"Sympathy play, check. Averting subject, check. Spill it, Tony. And don't feed me some bull excuse either."

"It's freaky how you do that, kid."

"I have excellent intuition. Now, spill the tea."

"Gabe isn't telling me some things—"

"Join the club."

"—and he isn't telling you some things. He wants to tell us face-to-face."

Hannah grimaced. "Then it's going to be crappy. Usually, bad news is a phone call: face-to-face is really bad news."

"He has to clear it with some people before he can tell us."

"You mean before he can tell me?"

"Again, creepy how you do that."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "That's the way it has always been. I'm low-clearance, I get it."

Clint strolled out of the elevator. "What juicy family gossip am I interrupting?"

"We're discussing next week," Tony said, deciding to skirt the details.

"Awesome. I've already done a headcount: Bruce and Pepper are staying here, but the others should be coming. Steve wants to see his old buddies and Nat wants to talk to some French dude."

"Why?" Tony asked.

"Because he knew a Black Widow back in the day. They all did," Hannah answered. "Or maybe it was that they fought one. I don't know. I'm assuming she wants to know about her."

She turned to Barton. "Why do you want to go?"

"Kicks and giggles," was his monotone answer. "And explosions sound fun."

"Oh great, another one," Hannah huffed. "You guys need therapy."

"Ever done therapy?" Clint asked.

Hannah laughed. "You're right, explosions win out."

Tony shook his head. "You're both crazy."

"And you like blowing things up just as much, hypocrite," the archer shot back with a grin. "But anyway. When are we leaving?"

"We'll take the jet, so probably next Tuesday."

Clint gave a small scoff. "Way to be boring, old man."

Tony squawked. "It is not boring!"

"This is a horrible idea," Hannah muttered before she spoke up saying, "I agree with Clint."

"Traitor," Tony muttered.

Clint was just as surprised. "Wait, really?!"

"I am not stepping foot on another airplane while I'm pregnant," she explained with a queasy look. "I puked three times in an hour on Fury's sneaky jet."

Hawkeye winced. "Dang. That's a smooth ride too. I was messing with you, Stark, but she's right."

"And we're trying to keep the hurling to a minimum so your jellybeans can absorb all the nutrients they can get," Tony sighed. "Great. Okay, Plan B. I'll buy one of those big buses."

"An RV?" Clint's expression lit up. "We can fit, what, eight people inside?"

Hannah counted off on her fingers. "Four Avengers, Truman, Milo, and myself... that's eight."

"We need room for more than eight," Tony said. "I have two others lined up to come with us. Extra security if you will."

Hannah shrugged. "As long as I don't have to ride on a plane, I'm happy. Don't take me too literally though."

"I think you'll like them."

"I'll hold you to that," she said with a smile. "Especially if we're going to be stuck in the same vehicle for over twelve hours together."

Tony's eyes lit up. "Hey, you know what? Let's make it a week-long thing. What d'ya think?"

"That is such a bad idea. Twelve hours I can handle. More than that..." Hannah grimaced. "You're not really—"

"Absolutely. We'll leave the day after tomorrow."

Hannah sighed. "Is it too late to take the plane?"

"Yep," Clint grinned, pumping his fist. "This is going to be great."

* * *

"You're only taking twos bag?" Tony asked incredulously as Truman placed the suitcases in the elevator for Happy to pick up in the underground garage.

"Dude, I only brought two bags," Hannah said.

"You mean you've been wearing the same outfit again and again?"

"What did you think I was wearing?"

"I don't know... Jarvis, message Pepper and tell her we have to take Hannah shopping!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Truman rolled his eyes. "Don't listen to Hannah, just take her shopping—she cried this morning because she couldn't wear her jeans anymore."

"That explains the yoga pants,"

Hannah huffed. "I don't show my butt off on purpose."

Tony moved behind her. "Eh, you should. It's a nice butt."

Squawking, Hannah gave him a swat on the arm. "Quit that!"

He snickered, shrugging. "What, you obviously got it from me." He struck a pose, wiggling his rear. "See?"

She covered her eyes. "Oh god. Mind bleach!"

"I don't know, Hannah, I think you did get it from him." Truman grinned, egging her on.

"You're both incorrigible," she muttered.

Tony peeled her hands from her eyes and grinned at her. "We're all eating breakfast tomorrow morning together before we hit the road. Seven a.m, don't miss it."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Milo wants blueberry muffins."

"On it."

* * *

A few minutes early the next morning, Hannah made her way to the communal kitchen for breakfast. Milo was with Truman; they were coming down after they finished an episode of Tom and Jerry. Hannah was tired enough to let him win the argument today. She paused at a familiar voice coming from the kitchen. Ignoring Jarvis's warnings, she peeked around the corner, a grin forming on her lips.

"Well, if it isn't the Prince of Thieves," she called gaily, stepping out.

Tony turned from his conversation with a mutton-chopped bear of a man, smiling widely. "I told you you'd like them."

The other Avengers were blinking at Hannah, mouths open. Except, of course, for Natasha, who remained unfazed.

"How do you know Gambit?" Clint sputtered.

Said mutant was staring at her, lips twisting into a flirty smirk. " _C'est bon_ _de te_ voir. Gettin' yo'self inta' mo' trouble, _ma bebelle_?"

Hannah laughed. "Wasn't it _ma bebette_ last time?"

"Y' wa' a monster if Remy recalls," he chuckled. He gave her pregnant state a cursory glance, the corner of his lips lifting. "Tha' _bon à rien_ carin' for y'?"

Hannah's lips thinned, eyes crinkling unhappily. "He turned out to be a SHIELD agent. Died in the Incident."

Remy winced, shoulders tensing. "Ah. _Les choses iront mieux petits yeux de biche_ ," he said softly.

She gave a sad smile. "So they say."

Tony blinked at her. "Wait, you speak French? Did he call you a b-"

"I speak French and German. Gabe's fault entirely," she said distractedly. "And no, he didn't call me a you-know-what."

"Stark, you knew they knew each other?" Clint demanded. "How on earth does she know him?"

Tony smirked. "Spring break in New Orleans. Draw your own conclusions."

Clint's eyes widened in horror and Hannah rolled her eyes when he accused Remy of being a womanizer.

"Mind out of gutter, Clint." She glanced at Remy. "And you, stop with the glowy eyes—you know you're a ladies' man."

He gave her a salacious grin. "Not 'dat you would know, _cher_. I tried ta get ya ta marry me, but ya wouldn't 'ave it."

She rolled her eyes. "I was already getting married, idiot, of course I said no. You were pickin' on me, anyway."

"Hannah, maker of the amazing muffins, how the heck do you know Gambit?" Clint begged.

"Jason and I eloped my last spring break of school—Remy helped pull it off. Even got his family to give us a big ol' shindig."

"Why?"

Remy smiled at Clint. "I a' thief—stealn' a bride were something I had na' tried."

Hannah snickered. "Pfft, liar. He didn't steal me—he owed me a favor."

Natasha finally raised an eyebrow. "He owed you a favor? He's an alpha level mutant, how did he owe you a favor?"

She shrugged. "Technically, I guess, he had it handled. He just thought he owed me for making his night."

Clint gagged and Hannah frowned. "Again, mind out of the gutter. I swear you're the Stark, not me."

Natasha crossed her arms.

"I brained his opponent with a brick," Hannah admitted. "Which was useless, considering it was—" She paused when the man next to Tony stepped up, growling low in his throat.

"Me," Logan growled.

Hannah coughed. "Uh, hey, Buzzsaw Louie. How's your noggin?"

He scowled, giving her a snarl that had Steve moving to stand slightly in front of her as a precautionary measure.

Tony was pale. "You threw a brick at Wolverine? You didn't tell me that part of the story! Have you no self-preservation?"

"He wouldn't have hurt me!" Hannah protested. "And it wasn't like the brick hurt him either! But it made Sparkle Eyes laugh, which gained me a favor. Logan's just being a sore loser because he was invited to the wedding but not the reception—which is absolutely Remy's fault!"

Tony dragged a hand over his face. "And how did you know he wasn't going to hurt you exactly?"

"He was in the Howlies' photograph collection. Some of Dernier's favorite stories featured him."

"That should have made you run in the opposite direction," Steve said wryly.

"And miss being able to tell the story of me braining Wolverine with a brick at every Legacy barbeque since then? Never."

Logan leveled her with an irritated look. "You're a menace."

"Stark genes, can't help it," she grinned.

Logan sniffed the air and frowned, but didn't say anything after that. Hannah frowned too but was distracted when Remy asked when she was expecting her first child.

Tony interrupted her answer with, "Funny thing, that. Apparently, Starks have a thing for creating progeny during Mardi Gras."

"You wa' in ma' city and didn' call?" Remy asked, placing a hand over his heart. "Remy is hurt, _ma bebette_."

...And they were back to "little monster".

"Aladdin, dude, I haven't been back since 2008. Tony's talking about my firstborn," she laughed.

LeBeau's eyes lit up. "Ya' got a little Hannah runnin' round?"

"A little Milo, actually. League all of his own. A few months though, yeah, two little Hannahs. May they be nothing like their mother as a child—I was a little heathen."

Remy was quiet for a moment before he asked, "Milo... Like tha' tea, eh?"

"You know it," she snickered. "You're going to love him—no corrupting my kid though, capisce? _Je suis sérieuse_ , LeBeau."

He held his hands up in a placating gesture, chuckling. "Remy behave."

"I almost believe you," she teased.

Her concern was well placed—twenty minutes into breakfast and LeBeau was teaching Milo how to pickpocket.

* * *

Tony pulled Logan aside before they boarded the RV the next day. "Don't tell her."

Logan raised a thick brow. "Tell her what? What everyone else has failed to tell her? Why the hell not?"

"We're going to get her grandparents to tell her."

"They won't do it," Logan grimaced.

Tony made a face. "They better do it."

"They love that gal too much to put her in danger with what they know. But they're idiots—she's in more danger not knowing."

"If they don't do it—"

"Then I'll do it. I'll blame it on my sense of smell or something—ain't a lie, I recognize her scent from 1990."

"How did... you were there," Tony realized. "The night my parents died, when Hannah was kidnapped. You were there."

Logan nodded. "Yeah, I was. I helped get her back. The Howlies didn't have the right equipment and SHIELD wouldn't cooperate, so they called me in. Dugan remembered that back in the day I tracked a Hydra official when the trail was almost cold... I usually don't help with that kind of stuff, but the Commandos helped me regain my memories—well, they helped me know who I was and where I came from at least."

Tony sighed. "Gabe promised to fill me in on that story at the barbeque, but..."

"Let him speak his piece. You can relate the tale back to me and I'll fill in any blanks he left," Logan said quietly.

"Even if she hit you in the head with a brick?"

Logan snorted. "Actually made me like the little spitfire."

"Why didn't you tell her she was a Legacy then, if you recognized her scent?"

"She smelled of grief and rebellion. Her mom rejected her pup, you could see it all over her face. She wasn't ready, and I wasn't going to say something in front of her double-faced husband."

"You think she's ready now?"

"Now that her SHIELD lackey is dead? Yes. He didn't need to know where she was from. The only people in SHIELD who should know about her is Fury and the Legacies. If they don't tell her, I'm going to shake them and do it myself."

"And if they argue?"

Logan's claws slid out with a shnick. "Then I'll persuade them."

"You are not doing that."

The mutant laughed. "They're not as breakable as you think they are, Stark. There's more than meets the eye with that group."

Hannah walked around the corner then, ending the conversation. She paused and blinked at them. "Oh crap, I interrupted something heavy, didn't I? I'll scoot, my bad!"

"Nah, sweetheart, you're okay," Tony sighed. "Where's Milo?"

Hannah smiled, pointing behind her. Truman was carrying the sleeping kid, his small head tucked against her brother's shoulder. "He was too excited to sleep last night. Everyone on the bus already?"

"Everyone except us. They've already claimed bunks like middle-school campers," Tony grinned. "They saved the queen in the back for you, though. They know Milo likes to sleep with you and thought you could use the extra privacy. And it has its own bathroom because I know other people's body odors make you sick."

She hugged him. "Thank you."

He hugged her back, giving Logan a dirty look over her head when the mutant grinned at him.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing. You're just getting mushy and soft, old man."

Hannah laughed when Tony made an affronted noise. "It's true," she teased, "I'm your mid-life crisis."

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy:**

 **Oh heyyyy. So, crazy crap has happened since I last updated, which was actually back in March and not July 10th, that was a fluke that happened when I took an author's note down. Anyway. When I started this story, I think I said I was trying to graduate early and study for the ACT test... well, here I am. I graduated a year ahead of my age group, scored high enough on the ACT to receive a full scholarship, and I am in my first official semester at college. So yay! I also had my first heartbreak, not that you guys need to hear about it. I'm just really depressed about it and needed some fluff to cheer me up.  
**

 **I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! You guys are amazing, and I was shocked to see I had over 300 followers-that's crazy, it's multiplied ten times what it was on my third update! It really cheered me up and got my mind of the idiot that broke my heart and stomped on it, haha.  
**

 **But thank you all, especially to Izzybug, M, ZabuzasGirl, sweetdixie.17, ProcrastinationIsAnArt, sofiarose613, xxjaelee, hangry247, petuliaklimpt, and the guests who all reviewed! I always love to read your thoughts and ideas for this story! Your questions will be answered soon, lol.**

 **And sorry if I butchered Gambit's accent-I'm a southern gal myself, but I find it a little hard to write a language I am so used to hearing that I don't even think about it. The southern twang is a beautiful thing, but it is a pain in the butt to write down on paper. If anyone wants to help me with that, you are more than welcome! Also, I know my French is terrible, forgive me for that too. The French spoken in Louisiana is radically different from what most people call French, and there is no google translate for "Remy Speak". Foreign language is not my forte. XD**

 **Translations:**

 _C'est bon_ _de te_ _voir_ : Good to see you.

 _Les choses iront mieux petits yeux de biche_ : Things will get better, little doe eyes.

 _Je suis sérieuse:_ I'm serious

 _ _bon__ _rien_ : a good for nothing man

 _ma bebelle_ : doll

 _ma bebette_ : litte monster

(the last three are more Cajun French. Knowing my luck I butchered those too.)

 **Leave a review if you can! They make my day! (Also, if you want me to actually _answer_ your question, tell me and I will. I just don't want to inherently spoil the story for someone.**


	13. Avulsion

On the first day of their trip, they stopped over in Washington, D.C., something about Steve meeting with Fury about a job offer. Tony said he was "selling his soul to the eye-patched devil" or some similar nonsense. And while the Cap was busy with Captain 'Merica business, Tony decided to take everyone to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum to see the national icon's exhibit. Remy and Logan declined, stating they had their own business to take care of.

"Shouldn't we wait so he can come with us?" Hannah asked, nose wrinkling. "It's Cap's exhibit."

Tony shrugged. "I asked. He doesn't give a rat's rear end about it. He has to make a personal appearance at the grand opening next month, anyways. Mini-me, however, is dying to see everything the museum has. Aren't you, Milo?"

Milo grinned excitedly. "YEP!"

Hannah grinned. "Well, can't argue with that. How are you going to get us in the exhibit?"

He shrugged. "I opened a lot of Dad's personal archives to find the material displayed in the exhibit. They'll let us in, trust me."

"And how, um, how are you going to get us all in unrecognized? The press will go crazy if we're all seen together."

"Well... you have a few options. We can either stay incognito—I have my ways—or we can let the press go crazy."

Hannah stared at him. "What purpose would that serve?"

He grinned. "Other than getting Fury into a twist? A lot."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay... Lay it out for me."

Tony held up a hand with three fingers raised. "One, you're being searched for, right? So, if people are aware of who you are, they're more likely to report an incident if something happens. Two, Kathy is still threatening to have your children forcibly removed from you by the State. She's been gathering resources to take you to court, more so in the past week. Crap is about to hit the fan, and it'd be better to get our situation out in the open before it hits. Three, well, we can finally go out in public together without worrying about letting the cat out of the bag."

Hannah made a face, then turned to Natasha. "Okay, Kim Possible. What do you think? Is this going to be a terrible idea or could it benefit us in the long run?"

Nat's lips quirked. "It'd be an excellent way to stick it to Stern," she said with a shark-like smirk. "And I may have tipped off the press five minutes ago. If you don't want to go through with it, there can be a change of plans."

Hannah thought carefully. "My life is going to get really crazy really fast, isn't it?" she sighed.

"Comes with the territory, Honeybear," Tony said.

She wrinkled her nose, then smiled slowly. "I can stick it to the prick I have for a father-in-law?"

"Hell, yeah, you can," Clint called as he walked into the room. "We'll all be right there to watch you do it, too."

"Then let's do it. Bound to happen anyway, might as well be on our terms."

Tony opened his sunglasses and slid them on his face, pulling another pair out to set them on Milo's grinning face. "Brilliant. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

While not really understanding what they were talking about, Milo pumped his fist. "Yeah, popsicles!"

* * *

The press did indeed go nuts, and Milo was hiked on Tony's hip while Hannah was firmly tucked under Tony's arm when the storm of camera flashes hit. Milo was cracking both of them up, lighting up under all the attention. He met the cameras with a wide smile, waving excitedly at them.

"I can see the headlines now," Clint whispered to Natasha. "Stark steps out with mystery woman, Potts heartbroken. Or, how about, Starks mystery family? Who is this brunette woman in our billionaire's life?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "They're not walking by, Barton. They're fielding questions. It gets their point across and kills the rumors."

Clint pouted. "Losers. That takes all the fun out of it."

"It's not supposed to be fun."

"They're not even giving the rumor mill a little grease, they're just grinding their own corn."

She snorted, grabbing his arm. "Come on, farm boy, we'll grease the rumor mill ourselves. Let's give Laura something to laugh about."

Clint laughed. "You're on. On a scale from New York to Budapest, how catastrophic should it be?"

"Low key, Barton. We're not stealing the spotlight."

"Aw, man."

* * *

"Whatcha looking at, kid?" Tony asked, coming to stand next to Hannah.

She glanced over at him. "Oh, hey. I'm just thinking." She turned back to the showcase displaying the Howling Commandos gear, the soldiers' portraits stationed behind each unique outfit.

He eyed the display himself. "About?"

She gave a small shrug. "Everything? I don't know, there's a lot. I want to know why they—" she motioned at the Howling Commandos "—told Gabe he couldn't tell me who I was. I want to know why I feel like a chess piece. I want to know who is searching for me and the real reason behind it, because they're not telling me everything and—"

She stopped, frowning. "I just want to understand. I hate being in the dark."

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you know why I know Peggy Carter's voice even though I've never met her or heard it for myself until now?" Hannah asked.

He blinked at her. "You knew what?"

"Her voice." Hannah turned to look at him. "In the interview the museum has on film. Before she spoke, I knew what her voice would sound like. It's freaking me out."

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his goatee. "I'm not technically supposed to tell you."

At her irritated look, he continued.

"But that's only technically. I can't spell it out—plausible deniability and all that—cause I'm already on Peggy's hit list. But I'll heavily hint. You're smart, you'll put it together."

"If that's the best I'm going to get, I'll take it."

"You know her voice because you knew her."

* * *

Truman woke up to Milo shaking him, the tike's worried face hovering inches above his nose. He jumped a little, startled.

"What is it, scout?" he whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.

"It's Mommy."

Truman sat up in his bunk, reaching for his glasses. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's crying."

"Oh crap." Truman forgot his glasses as he rolled out of his blankets, and, in his haste, crashed with the floor.

"Carrots," Tony hissed from above him, leaning over the edge of the bunk atop Truman's. "What's going on down there?"

Truman picked himself up from the floor. "I'll explain, I swear. Just, here, can Milo stay with you for a few minutes?"

Tony sighed. "Yeah, sure." He gripped Milo by his underarms are Truman passed him up. "Come on up, kiddo. Uh-uh, you're not sleeping on the edge. Climb over me, other side so you don't fall."

Convinced his nephew was in good hands, Truman crept quietly to where his sister was, making an effort not to wake the others.

* * *

Truman and Hannah were sitting around the table, and a warm cup of tea shoved into her cold hands, when the RV door swung open and Logan and Remy rambled in.

The two mutants paused at seeing the two siblings, eyebrows raising.

"Everything okay?" Logan rumbled.

Hannah shrank back a little. "Yeah," she said in a small voice. "It's okay."

Logan slid into the seat in front of them, and Remy followed suit.

"How long have you been havin' nightmares, pup?" Logan queried gruffly.

"As long as I can remember," she said softly. "Truman probably knows when they began."

Truman shook his head. "I can't tell you when they started. I don't remember the adoption—I always thought you were my biological sister—but I do remember you woke up whimpering every night for two years until you figured out how to hide it from us better. God, Hannah, why didn't you say something to someone? You've been dealing with these for how many years and kept mum about it? We could have given you something to help you sleep."

Hannah hugged herself, rubbing her arms. "I didn't want to be a burden."

"You—" Truman raked a hand through his hair, then wrapped her up in his own hug. "No. No, no, no, no. You were never a burden. Not to any of us."

"What ah' they 'bout?" Remy asked quietly. "You eva' think 'bout talking with someone?"

"I don't want to sound stupid."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Stupider not to say anything, kid. Bottling it up is unhealthy."

"Says the world's expert," she shot back.

Logan huffed a soft laugh. "What do you think brought it on? Anything in particular?"

She fell silent.

"Hannah?" Truman pressed quietly. "If you're not speaking up because you think it's stupid, just go ahead and say it. Unless you really don't want to, and if that's the case, I'll drop it."

"I won't," Logan warned. "It ain't healthy."

Hannah lifted her mug to her lips, taking a small sip before setting the ceramic down again. "It sounds nuts."

Remy grinned. "The crazier the better, ma bebelle."

Her eyes fell to stare at the table while her lips curved into a half-hearted smile. "I think it was the film in the museum."

Logan was the only one who didn't look confused. Instead, he tensed slightly.

"What film?" he asked.

"It was an interview with Peggy Carter," she answered softly. "All Tony would say is that I knew her somehow. But I'm not sure how, the memory is hazy. I'm probably just losing it, honestly. Pregnancy brain or something. "

Logan leaned forward, pulling a cigar from his pocket to gnaw on. "What's the memory?"

"That's just it. I don't know."

Truman nodded. "Okay. Then what was the nightmare?"

"The nightmare, huh?" Logan murmured. "Recurring dream?"

"Yeah."

"Must be a' memory," Remy offered.

Hannah's nose wrinkled. "I don't think so. I don't think anything like what happened in the dream happened to me."

"What did happen in the dream?" Logan pressed. "Was Carter there?"

"Yeah...yeah she was," Hannah answered.

Remy raised an eyebrow at the burly mutant. "You is awful curious, bon a rien."

Logan gave him a curt look. "Shut up, LeBeau."

Gambit shrugged. "Jus' observin'."

He shook his head at the Prince of Thieves and turned back to Hannah. "Tell me what happened. Everything you remember."

She swallowed. "Someone was hugging me... It was a man, because his beard was making my neck itch. He was laughing. Carter was laughing too, and she was the one holding me."

"And then...?"

"And then I was yanked away from them," she whispered.

"By what?"

She colored. "A tornado. See, I told you it was stupid."

Logan snorted. "Not stupid at all. Anything else happen?"

"Yeah. I ended up in a room with blood on my hands, and a man pinning me down. Needles were sticking out of me or something." She shuddered. "And then I wake up."

"What'd the man look like?"

Hannah's fingers tightened around the mug handle. "I don't want to talk about it."

Logan nodded. "Alright. You get that dream a lot?"

"It's the one I have most often," she admitted. "Don't know why."

"I do."

She blinked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"You aren't going to tell me?"

"They're supposed to tell you at the reunion."

Hannah thought back to Gabe's comment months earlier about "the tip of the iceberg".

"Oh brilliant," she grumped. She was going to get more life-changing secrets to digest.

"I never said I wouldn't tell you," Logan offered with a smirk. "I don't think you're gonna like what I have to say, though."

"I'm all ears," Hannah said wearily. "I'm sick of the secrets."

"I ain't telling you all of it," he grumbled. "Only a piece. They can tell you the rest."

"We can go in the other room..." Truman started to say, only for Hannah to shoot him down by gripping his hand tightly in her own.

"Okay," Hannah told Logan. "Shoot."

He grimaced. "That ain't just a dream you're having, kid. That really happened. Or, at least, some of it happened."

"Which part?"

Logan sighed. "That couple in your dream? Carter and the man? That's your grandparents."

Hannah frowned. "How—"

"They're both Howlies, pup. The Carter-Dugans. You were taken from them when you were just toddling, and when they got you back, you were placed with the Phillips for protection."

The blood drained from her face and Truman whipped an inhaler out of his pocket and shoved it at her.

"But the man in your dream..." Logan continued. "What'd he look like?"

Her lips thinned. "Why?"

Logan sighed. "Metal arm and shaggy hair?"

Her lips, sheet white, trembled. "How'd you know that?"

"He killed the Starks," Logan admitted. "His scent was all over you, too. Dugan called me in, asked me to help track you down because SHIELD wasn't cooperating. I followed the man's scent more than I did yours." He shook his head. "He's Enhanced, more than the arm. Though, that arm ain't too shabby—it held up against my claws. I didn't make the connection until I was at your grandparents' funeral and caught his scent again."

Hannah's grip on Truman's hand tightened, and Remy snatched the garbage can in time to catch her vomit as she heaved.

"I was... I was kidnapped?" she asked, head still over the garbage can. The can made her voice sound tinny. "Why?"

"That's Dugan's mess to clean up," Logan retorted grimly. "I ain't touchin' that particular explanation with a thirty-foot pole.

Leaning back, Hannah gripped her inhaler before she shook it, uncapped it, put it between her lips, and sprayed the medication, inhaling quickly. Truman rubbed her back.

"What about the needles?" she breathed, coughing.

"Nu-uh, Dugan can tell you about that. I've already said too much."

Truman choked then, pieces clicking together in his mind. "Oh god," he groaned. "Oh my god."

His vehement exclamation startled Hannah. "What, Truman?"

"Your blood samples..." he babbled. "Your genes are modified somehow, Sis. Like, Captain America level crap modified. Jeepers creepers, no wonder you've got a phobia of needles. What do you think they were doing if you have that crap in you?"

She sucked in a breath and glanced at Logan, who was glaring at Truman. The glare was the only answer needed to cement that tidbit of knowledge as truth in her mind.

"Whoa, ma cherie," Remy said lowly, reaching an arm out to steady her as she began to go shake harder. He glared at Logan. "You ah an idiot," he grumbled at the other mutant.

After several long moments, between Truman's steady hand on her back and Remy's kind eyes assuring her it was okay, Hannah calmed enough to bring her shaking down to only a slight shivering.

"Wait," she thought out loud. "That's why you didn't rip my guts out when I hit you with a brick? 'Cause you knew who I was?"

"Yep."

"Tony does not hear that part of the story," she groaned. "He's already mad enough about it."

"Not mad," Logan grinned, "just a little shaken."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you. For, ya know, not letting me stay kidnapped and not ripping my guts out when I hit you with a brick. And for telling me about my grandparents."

The man laughed. "You're just like your Pops—Dugans have no self-preservation."

She stood to her feet, gently declining Truman's offer of help. "I have to make a phone call," she said, excusing herself.

"But it's midnight," Truman argued.

She snorted. "Yeah, and Gabe keeps weird hours like the rest of them. I'll call him tonight and worry about the others in the morning."

"Let 'em have it!" Logan called after her as she disappeared into her quarters. "You tell 'em, Snippy!"

She gave him a dirty look over her shoulder. "Didn't I tell you not to call me that?"

"You call me names, I call you names," he shrugged. "Turn-about is fair play, kid."

Hannah rolled her eyes and disappeared.

Truman looked at Logan with curious eyes. "Snippy, huh?"

The mutant grinned at Hannah's brother. "She's like a little yippy dog, snipping at heels with her teeth when people are too slow for her liking."

Truman laughed. "I'm going to have to borrow that."

* * *

Hannah looked down at the cell phone in her lap, biting her lip. "Screw it," she huffed, dialing Gabe's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Crap, you sound pissed. What'd they tell you?"

"Not enough. Are they coming?"

Gabe was quiet.

"Gabe?"

"I tried to convince them to come."

"Okay. That's all I needed to know. I'll call you soon. Thank you."

She hung up before he could reply.

* * *

The next afternoon, Hannah locked herself in her small quarters and prepared to make a phone call.

"Hey, Jarvis?" she asked out loud, hoping her hunch was right and Tony had installed his AI in the Starktech phone he gave her.

"Yes, Mrs. Lawson?"

Hannah grinned. "Sweet. I was hoping you were there."

"If possible, I will always be nearby to assist."

"Awesome. Listen, do you think you could do something possibly illegal? I mean, not terribly illegal, I just need someone's contact. And the only way to obtain it may be illegal, i.e. hacking SHIELD?"

"I have all SHIELD files already downloaded on my servers," Jarvis admitted. "It is simply a matter of searching for the information you request."

Hannah's nose wrinkled. "What about, um, clearance levels?"

"I have monitored your behavior since you came to live under Sir's protection. You have shown yourself to be trustworthy, kind, and noble over the past few months. Sir trusts you, and has granted you access to all information included in my databanks."

Oh. Hannah blinked. "Whoa. Okay. Didn't know he trusted me that much."

"Sir cares very much for you and wishes you to have access to his "legacy" as he calls it should an unfortunate event happen."

Tears welled in her eyes at the information, and she quickly wiped them and stored that information away to think through later. "Can you—geez, J. I'm tearing up."

"My apologies. You seem to have inherited your father's inability to process emotions." The AI almost sounded amused.

She snorted. "What a trait. Can you find the contact information of Peggy Carter or Timothy Dugan, please? I need to talk to them."

"Of course, Mrs. Lawson. The information has been entered into your contacts."

"Thanks. You're a hero, Jarvis."

"An AI, actually, but were I to have emotions I am sure I would appreciate the sentiment."

"Well, until I'm certain that you don't actually have emotions, I'm still going to treat you like you do," she smiled.

"But—"

"Dude, you're pretty much my weird automated brother," she snickered. "We technically have the same creator."

Jarvis was silent for a long second. "Oddly, that computed in my systems. I accept the charge of elder sibling."

"Wait, elder sibling?"

"The beginning of my coding dates back to June 5th, 1990. I am therefor three months your elder."

"But I was "conceived" before you were, so technically—"

"You should call the Dugans," Jarvis interrupted.

"Alright, alright. I'm not letting this go, though, J."

If the AI could sigh, he would have. "I would expect nothing less of Sir's offspring."

Hannah smiled, then opened her contacts to search for the information Jarvis uploaded. Her smile slowly faded and she took a deep breath before she pressed the contact marked Dugan Residence.

The phone rang several times before someone picked up.

"Hello? Can I help you?" a woman answered.

Hannah frowned. The voice was young, and definitely not from someone in their nineties.

"Okay," she thought, "Make yourself sound familiar with them, so you can actually talk to them."

"Yes, can I speak with Pegs or Dum Dum?"

"A moment, please. It's lovely weather we're having down here, they must be outside enjoying it."

The phrase was achingly familiar, and Hannah felt a smile curve her lips as she recalled a story where a very similar saying was used. "I'm sure Pegs has her umbrella. Lovely weather or not, she always carries it."

"Ah, there they are. Birdwatching, it seems."

Hannah almost choked. Another test, and pickles and ice cream if she didn't know it. She would have to remember to thank Gabe for all his "Kick-Butt Carter" stories he told her over the years.

"Too bad emus and ostriches aren't native to the U.S.," Hannah countered. "But I hear eagles are making a return from near extinction."

"They're on their way to speak with you. Please hold."

Hannah hit mute and let out a breath she was holding. "Wow. Okay, that was interesting."

"Hello?"

The gruff Boston accent struck a chord in Hannah's memory and she wheezed, thankful the phone was still on mute. She placed the device on the bed, took a deep breath, and hit unmute.

"Hi," she croaked, a lump rising in her throat.

"Who is this?" Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan demanded tightly.

"I... I'm Hannah." She rubbed the column of her throat, trying to dispel the tightness she felt there. "I'm coming down to Gabe's for the Reunion, and... and I'd really like you to be there. Both of you."

"They told you?" he demanded. "Why can't they take a damn order?"

"Not who you think, and in my opinion, they didn't tell me enough," she retorted, her nails biting crescents into the palm of her hand. "Please just... just come."

"I don't think—"

"Timothy, give me the phone," a woman demanded.

Hannah hit mute again, letting out a long breath as she listened to the scuffle occurring on the other side of the phone. It struck her again that she knew their voices and she didn't know why or how.

"Now wait just a second—ouch, lay off, Pegs!"

"NOW, Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader Dugan."

Hannah blinked. She shared the same middle initials as her grandfather. That was... interesting.

"Sheesh, alright, alright! You didn't have to kick me in the plums!"

"We have children already—it won't hurt anything."

"Says you, Great Britain! Oomph!"

"Sixty years of marriage, you would think you would learn by now," Peggy huffed before she spoke directly into the phone. "Hannah. Hello, love. We'll be there."

"Now, Pegs—"

"I'll see you then," Peggy promised, ignoring her husband. "I have to deal with this imbecile. Goodbye, dearie. Stay safe."

The dial tone buzzed. Peggy had hung up.

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy: AIIIII, WE HIT 100 REVIEWS LAST CHAPTER! WHOOOO WHOOP! Thank you 100th reviewer, I would congratulate you by name but there was no name XD**

 **I just finished finals this week and wrote this up cause I am so glad to be on break and yet have no clue what to do with myself now that there's no school work. Let me know what you think about this chapter! The Legacy Barbecue should be in the next one, hopefully; I'm trying to take my time writing that chapter because it's a huge part of this arc. ;)**

 **I loved reading all of the reviews and seeing follows and favorites! They make my day, they really do!** **Thank you to all who reviewed! I'm not sure I can reply to all of them because I'm not really sure which reviews belong to which chapter and whose reviews I've already answered. I'm going to start writing them down soon, though, lol, so I can keep up with and answer them correctly. But I do know I definitely need to give a shout out to Kurochach, who helped fix my butchered French. Thank you so much for that! You rock, dude!**


	14. Misprision

Three days into the trip, Truman came out of Hannah's quarters shaking his head.

"What's wrong with her?" Tony asked. He really didn't want to know how he would react to Pepper ever being pregnant if he was this worried about Hannah. His protective tendencies were ratcheting around like crazy and he didn't know what to do with himself away from his labs.

"Backaches and leg cramps." Truman grimaced. "They're worse this round because she's carrying twins. I don't think being on her feet all day yesterday was much help."

"Is it something we should worry about?"

"Nah. She just isn't going to be in the best of moods for the next few days."

"And it's completely normal?"

"Yep. She's nineteen weeks."

Tony blinked. "Only nineteen? She looks like she swallowed a basketball!"

Truman snorted. "Don't let her know that.

Natasha elbowed Clint and whispered something in his ear. He sighed, raising his hand.

Tony's eyebrow quirked. "Yes, Legolas?"

"I can help."

"Oh really? And how is that?"

He waggled his fingers. "Ex-carnie. I used to help the acrobats with their muscle cramps."

"Have at it, if you can convince her to come out," Truman grinned. "Though when you mention foot rub, I don't think that will be an issue."

It wasn't. Hannah came out of her room, sat on the couch, and curled into Tony's side, propping her feet on the couch where Clint gestured.

Clint motioned for the others in the room to watch. "I'm not always around, you guys need to learn how to do this."

Hannah went tense, then lax as he began rubbing the soles of her feet, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

Tony made a face. "I really want to make a joke, but that's my daughter and it'd be weird."

Hannah snorted, burying her face into his arm. "Please don't. Milo's right there."

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, smiling. "I won't."

She popped her head up to smile back at him. "Oh hey, so guess what?"

"Hm?" Tony hummed distractedly.

"I maybe found out Kick-Butt Carter and Dum Dum Dugan are my grandparents. And also maybe convinced them to come to the barbeque. You don't have to say anything, I know you knew. I just wanted to spare you from the awkward of telling me."

Tony stared down at her, then began laughing. "Only you could convince those two to come—I know, I tried. Capsicle did, too, eh Rogers?"

Steve gave a modest shrug. "Peggy always did her own thing, no matter what I said." His face softened. "It'll be good to see them."

"Maybe." Tony made a face. "How'd that conversation go anyway, squirt?"

Hannah grinned widely. "Well, they called each other names and Peggy kicked Dum Dum in "the plums" when he wouldn't give her the phone."

Steve laughed. "Wouldn't be the first time. I'm glad they had each other." His smile was bitterly accepting. "Romanoff mentioned you learned a bit of self-defense from Dernier?" he asked, changing the subject.

Hannah pulled a face. "Every summer since I was ten. Minus the one I spent pregnant." Her eyes twinkled then, dimples appearing in her cheeks. "Oh sweet, I get a pass this year!"

The Captain gave her his signature "Captain America is Disappointed in You" eyebrows, then turned to Tony. "We need to look into a specialized training regime for pregnant wo—" A sock smacked him in the face, courtesy of Hannah. "—men. Did you just hit me in the face with your _sock_?"

"You're lucky it doesn't smell," she huffed. "Like it would if _someone made me train_."

Tony blinked at her. "How the heck did you get that off when you're three inches short of not being able to see your toes?"

Clint snorted. "She didn't. She pulled it out of her pocket. Which begs the question: why do you carry a sock in your pocket?"

"It was full of static and stuck to my shirt this morning," she shrugged. "I forgot I put it there."

Steve sighed. "What will it take to convince you?"

"Chocolate cake and a foot rub after each session and a specialist's opinion on whether or not it's safe," she snarked back.

Natasha nodded. "Done."

Steve gave her a betrayed look. "Aren't there healthier compromises than chocolate cake after each session?"

Natasha shrugged. A large varietyof healthy things could be snuck into a cake, after all.

"Dude, never deprive a pregnant woman of her chocolate cake," Clint warned.

"You're the one who stole a chocolate cake out of her kitchen!" Steve countered.

"Yeah, and I learned my lesson, man."

* * *

They were technically a day and a half early for the festivities, but Gabe had invited them to come on anyway. It gave them a chance to have a few private conversations together before the other Legacies showed. Gabe's own family—Danielle, Trip, and their parents—were already there.

"Oh my goodness, look at you!" Danielle squealed. "You have a baby bump!"

"I know, I know, I'm fat." Hannah rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the RV and onto the driveway. Everyone, save Steve and Tony, she noted with some worry, was already outside.

"You are not," Danielle laughed, sweeping her childhood friend up into as large of a hug as their slowly growing bellies would allow.

"Are too!" Trip called, "What did you eat for breakfast, a basketball?"

"I'll make _you_ eat a basketball, meanie." Hannah stuck her tongue out at him as she pulled away from the hug.

The concrete pavement underneath their feet was sending up rippled waves up caused by the arid summer heat, and she hoped she wasn't in for a miserable week.

"Good lord, it feels like I stepped into an oven. Man, I forgot how much worse pregnancy makes summer," she bemoaned to her friend.

Danielle grinned. "Well, luckily for you, the pool they've been promising for years has finally been installed. Just finished, actually."

Hannah cheered. "That'd have been a nice piece of news to share before now."

"News," Danielle said suddenly. "Oh girl, you are in every gossip rag in the U.S. right now. Fury had a fit and called Pops to gripe. Diego and the idiot calling you fat can't stop laughing at it all."

"Fury is always having a fit."

"True."

"Is it really _every_ gossip rag though?"

Trip gave her a shark-like grin. "Yep. Speculations are running rampant, whether you answered their questions or not. I'm shocked you haven't had reporters following your bus, honestly."

"Only because we were careful about how we arrived to the museum and left the museum," Tony said, climbing out behind Hannah.

"I'm making you a scrapbook of every magazine cover with you on it I can find," Danielle promised Hannah before she turned to Tony. "Oh my god," she cackled, "You!"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"I am blaming each one of Hannah's crazy stunts on the genes she got from you!"

"Which means I—" Trip pointed to himself "—am profusely thanking you for my endless entertainment over the years."

Tony turned to Hannah. "Can I blame your grandfather?"

Hannah's eyes narrowed. "No. We haven't had that conversation yet."

Danielle's eyebrows shot up. "What conversation?"

"The one we're about to have," Hannah promised. "Step inside for a second? It'll take, like, two minutes tops."

* * *

"You... are a triple-freaking-legacy," Danielle said slowly.

"Yes."

" _You_ are Howard Stark's, Kick-Butt Carter's, and Dumb Dumb's granddaughter."

"Yes."

"That... actually explains so much. Backbone of steel, endless amount of patience, and a freakish amount of spontaneous insanity. Sounds like the right mixture for one Hannah Avery Claire."

"That does not sound like me at _all_."

Danielle rolled her eyes. "River in Egypt, babe. I could give you countless examples of where you took after each one of them. Unfortunately, we'd be here all day. And our two-minute limit is up. Come on, Jackie-boy got here a few hours ago and he's dying to see us."

"Dernier has something else coming if he thinks he's getting me on those stupid mats," Hannah grumbled. "I have a _legitimate_ excuse this time."

Danielle chuckled. "He's spent the past two hours pulling together course materials to train pregnant women, and that's just for me—no one else but the Jones clan knows you're pregnant. Just burst into tears when he brings it up and show off the baby bump, trust me. Now come on."

Hannah grinned. "You go ahead. I've got to pee one last time. I know the house is literally right there, but I seriously have to go."

Danielle shrugged. "Alright." She opened the RV door and called to her honorary nephew, "Hey, Milo, want to come look at the puppies? Diego thought you might like to pick one out."

Hannah opened her mouth to argue, then shrugged. She had promised he could get one for his next birthday, anyway.

* * *

Hannah fudged the pee excuse. Well, sort of. She really did need to pee, but it could wait. She was really more worried about the missing super-soldier than the twins using her bladder as a memory foam mattress.

The bathroom door was shut, and Hannah paused outside to gently test the doorknob. Locked.

"Hey, Cap," she called softly, placing her ear against the door to listen for a response. "I'm assuming from the lack of explosive noises that you're not taking a dump." She winced. "That was... not the most tasteful thing to say. Sorry. Can you... can you let me in? You don't have—"

A latch clicked, and Steve called, "It's unlocked now."

She hesitated, then slowly swung the door open. He was sitting on top of the closed toilet lid, feet drawn close so she would be unimpeded opening the door.

"You okay?" she asked carefully, carefully maneuvering herself into the bathroom. It was a tight fit, what with the Captain's broad shoulders and her expanding stomach, but she made it work. She made it work by sitting in the tiny shower stall, but eh, whatever. She had grabbed a towel to lay down before she sat, so her yoga pants weren't getting soaked from the leftover water droplets of someone's morning shower.

Steve let out a haggard breath, running his hand through his hair. "Well, I'm not taking a dump," he said, wearing a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

Hannah's lips wobbled into a hesitant smirk. "Yeah, that's... something, I guess. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no."

"Okay."

Steve gave her an incredulous look. "Are you just... You're just going to sit there?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because being alone when you're dealing with this kind of crap sucks. Being with someone while you're dealing with this kind of crap sucks, too, but it sucks a little less. Something about commiserating is comforting."

He blinked at her. "How are you not cramped in there?"

"Oh, I am. But my muscles can deal. I'm here as long as you need company, or at least until you kick me out."

He sighed, allowing his legs to stretch back out.

They sat in silence. Hannah eventually began fiddling with the wedding ring and chain around her neck, taking them off and holding the chain between her hands, tilting it this way and that so that the band slid across the chain. Steve slowly and methodically began to shred toilet paper from the roll, eyes focused on the growing pile of torn paper on the floor.

 _Clang, clang, clang._

 _Rip, rip, rip._

 _Clang, rip, clang, rip._

Hannah straightened in her spot, lowering the chain and wiggling to get more comfortable in her cramped position.

"Okay, I know I said I'm here for as long as you need someone or until you kick me out, but these babies are sitting right on my bladder and I'm either going to have to leave to go pee or you're going to have to close your eyes and suffer the embarrassment of hearing my pee stream in the shower in a few minutes."

"I'll close my eyes."

She stared suspiciously at him before she saw the small spark of humor in his eyes. "Oh my god, you _troll,_ " she laughed, stretching her legs out as much as she could. "Seriously, though, I have to pee. You want to come with me outside, or do you want me to come back? Or do you just want to hang out here and have the place to yourself?"

"You ramble a lot. Howard did that."

She pulled a face, then shrugged. "Could have compared me to worse, I guess. Like, I don't know, Dugan."

It was said lightly, but Steve gave her a thoughtful look.

"I don't know why he did what he did, but I know it must have been for a good reason. He isn't a bad man, Hannah."

"Never said he was. He's the Commando's scapegoat, is all. It's a running joke, I guess, and told in good humor. Gabe always liked to tell me about the crazy stunts he'd pull." She held the chain up again. _Clang, clang, clang_. "Why're you so worried about going out there? You don't have to answer that. But if it's because they'll look different..."

She trailed off, making a face that said she spoke too much without saying enough.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Well... I'm pretty sure they've got some of the same juice you did. Or something similar. But that's just my hypothesis, they could just be aging really well. Who knows? They all look about forty, though, so something's up. Everybody is either really polite about it, or it's a taboo."

Steve wore a thoughtful expression. "They didn't look young in the publicity photos."

"Stage makeup," she shrugged. "Or doppelgängers, you never can tell with SHIELD."

Steve stood, bending to brush the toilet paper shreds up so he could toss them in the wastebasket. "I guess I have more catching up to do than I thought. SHIELD implied that the Serum was never recreated."

"Maybe not your serum, but they've got something." Hannah ran her hands over her arms. "'Cause I've got it, too."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. But that's a whole other mess of a conversation. I don't know much, kinda hoping I could learn a little more on this trip."

"I'll tell you what I find out," Steve promised with a huff, running a hand through his blond hair. "If I find out anything."

"I'm sure you will." She fastened the chain back around her neck. "Now come on, help me up—contrary to people trying not to let me hear, I know I look like a beached whale."

"Who—"

"Didn't have to be anyone," she grinned. "Mirrors don't lie and I can barely see my toes anymore. I'm kind of at that point where getting up once I'm down is awkward and harder than it should be so... help please?"

Steve laughed, gently taking her by the elbow and pulling her up.

* * *

The others had already made their way into Gabe's home, and it was mass chaos inside by the time Steve held the front door open for Hannah. He noted that Hannah was right about the Commandos, or at least the two he could see—they looked more in their forties than in their nineties.

Milo was holding a squirming puppy and showing it to Danielle and Trip's parents; Truman and Trip were exchanging insults and one-upping one another with stories of their "scary" pregnant sisters; Logan was deep in conversation with Gabe; Tony and Clint were arguing over something; Natasha and Dernier were having a fast-paced conversation in French, and Danielle was having her own conversation in French with Remy while Diego rolled his eyes. Hannah rolled her own eyes when she realized the story Remy was in the middle of telling was about her and Jason eloping in New Orleans.

Dernier spied Hannah and began to grin, excusing himself from his conversation with Natasha. "Ah, here she is!" He glanced at her stomach, then peered back up at her face. "You are pregnant too? Ai, I will have two students to test the new regime on!"

"Yeah, no, buddy," Hannah laughed. "I'm not getting on those mats for all the chocolate cake in the world."

Dernier shook his head. "It is safe for the little _bébés_ _,_ I promise. It will make them safer, actually, by making you safer."

"Specialist opinions are needed," Hannah argued, crossing her arms. "That's one of the terms of agreement and I'm not budging on it."

Jacques gleeful look made her shift uneasily.

"I spoke with my daughter. She is the one who sent me the exercises."

Hannah blinked. "Adalene?"

" _Oui._ She has opened her own practice."

"Oh wow."

She made a face, glancing at Steve. "You heard none of that."

"Sorry, I thought I heard him say that he had the required specialist opinion," Steve grinned back.

Her nose wrinkled. "I'm a high-risk pregnancy though…"

"All the more reason to train," Gabe intoned, joining them . "We'll make it as safe as we can for your little jellybeans, Hannah. We're just going to show you how to better defend your abdominal area and adjust your methods for getting out of holds. That's it. No heavy lifting, nothing that could harm the babies."

"My vitals are monitored throughout?" she asked.

Gabe nodded. "Of course. Same for Danielle. It may be a new regime, but we've done similar things in the past for our wives and daughters."

Hannah sighed. "Okay."

Seeing the need to change the subject, Steve smirked at Dernier.

"What?" the Frenchman queried.

"You speak English now, is all," he chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Gabe began laughing. "Cap, he's always spoken English."

Steve blinked. "Even during the war?"

"How else would you have learned proper French?" Jacques winked. "You were very determined to communicate with me, if you will recall. Sink or swim method, _Capitaine_."

Hannah broke into peals of laughter. "So, I _wasn't_ the guinea pig."

"Speaking of guinea pigs." Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "Anybody want to explain why you guys only look twenty years older than the last time I saw you?"

"Let me talk to Tony first," Gabe sighed, moving to walk away.

"It can wait until everyone is here," Steve offered. "I just hope you have a good reason to do what you've done."

Jacques smiled. "We were trained by a master tactician, how could we not?"

Hannah trailed after Gabe, away from the others. "Can I sit in with—"

"No."

Her lips thinned.

Gabe sighed. "Kiddo, I've got to talk privately with your dad about some things."

In a low voice, she asked, "Are you going to tell him about the kidnapping, about why they put me up for adoption? About the serum?"

It was the last question that caused him to turn around to look at her. "Who told you? Did Tony figure it out?"

"What? No, I don't think so."

" _Then who told you_?"

She swallowed. "A combination of people. They each had different pieces of the puzzle, I guess." She pushed her bangs out of her face. "Though it all kind of came together when I found out my phobia of needles is well-grounded."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I need to talk to Tony. You and I though… we need to sit down with your grandparents and talk when they get here."

"Okay."

"Hey, relax." Gabe wrapped her in a hug. "It'll be okay, Hannah. You bring a swimsuit? 'Cause I'll send Trip out to get one if you don't."

Hannah snorted. "You're going to send Trip out to buy me a bathing suit?"

"Why not? The man has survived worse missions. And—" Gabe's eyes twinkled "—I heard about that basketball comment earlier. I know his momma raised him better than that."

Hannah grinned. "Don't tell her, I wouldn't want him to get a swat—he got enough of that wooden spoon growing up."

He laughed. "Bathing suit or no?"

"Sure," she chuckled. "But knowing my dumb luck he's going to pick out a hideous monstrosity."

"And you would take the joke further by wearing it."

"Oh absolutely."

Shaking his head, Gabe called, "Tony," and motioned the man to follow him.

Tony nodded in understanding.

"What's that about?" Clint asked.

"I'm about to get some answers. We'll discuss your boomerang arrows later, Legolas."

"Of all people, I thought you'd be the one who would agree with me!" the archer called after him.

Steve grasped Tony firmly by the shoulder as he brushed by.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "There a problem, Capsicle?"

"Go easy on them," the Captain cautioned, referring to Peggy and the Commandos as a whole. "I don't know their reasons, but I'm sure they did the best they could."

"They did what they thought was best. There's a difference."

* * *

Tony followed Gabe into his office, where the man pulled a large tote from the safe. "Here, hotshot, you carry this."

Tony gave him an unimpressed look. "Really?"

"What, you don't think I'm going to carry it? I'm old… and decrypt."

"Old, yes. Decrypt, no. You look as young as you were at Dad's funeral, which you need to explain," Tony harrumphed, bending to pick up the box.

"You got the pieces, figure it out."

"I did. I want to know _why_ you did it." He fumbled with the box for a second. "Geez, what's in here?"

"Hard files, some incriminating photos and documents, etcetera. Things that stayed off SHIELD's servers. Bring it to the study, would you?"

Tony grunted as he shifted his grip. "Why didn't you just get Mr. Self-Righteous out there to carry this?"

"It's better to do this in two private conversations." Gabe swung open the study door, stepping aside to let Tony through. The box was set down with a heavy thump on the desk. "Thanks."

Opening the tote, he pulled a thick binder from the inside. "That's the complete file on Hannah. Fury has a partial copy, the one he sent to you."

Tony pulled a yellowed document from the dossier. "What's this?"

"Look at it, you've got two eyes."

Tony scanned the paper. "Hannah's birth certificate."

Gabe nodded. "The original. Look at the last name."

Tony's breathing hitched. "Stark."

"Yeah. Here."

He looked up as Gabe set a stack of glossy photographs on the desk. He picked them up, lips turning down into a sour expression at the top photo. Dum Dum, Aunt Pegs, and his parents were in the frame, all surrounding an infant in an incubator with tired smiles.

"They all knew, huh?"

"Yeah. Just them though. Didn't care to tell the others, not until Danielle brought her to meet the family. She was eight when I met her."

"Yeah, doesn't that sound like a coincidence," Tony remarked sourly. "Hannah mentioned it felt off, said she felt like some kind of chess piece."

"It was Howard."

"How? He was already dead, Gabe."

"There's this… this algorithm he created. He tried to explain it to me, I didn't really get it. It's scary predictable, though. He set up a domino effect so we would find her, fail safes in case one circumstance or another didn't happen. Danielle was one of them, but we would have found her a few years later even if she never met Dee." Gabe shook his head. "That algorithm had a good outcome, but Tony, it's dangerous."

Tony bit the inside of his cheek. "Where is it?"

"It was on a flash drive."

"Which, I'm guessing by the tone of your voice, was in Dad's car with the Serum."

"Yes."

Tony shook his head. "And no one has any idea who took it? No cameras, no anything?"

"There were a few traffic cameras, but no footage from what we saw. That isn't to say there wasn't any, we just never saw it. SHIELD is dirty, it's why I got out. I don't have any proof, and if I did, I'd be dead. But I go with my gut. And my gut says there's a darker side to the agency."

"You think they set it up? The assassination?"

"I think someone in SHIELD did, but I don't think it was an official order from the higher ups."

"Gabe, we need to find—"

The man held up his hand to stop him, then rubbed his face tiredly. "Tony, we had some of the best try to find out who did it and where they went. There was nothing. The assassin was a ghost. There was no trace of the serum or the algorithm. The second has a distinct footprint we could find if it were in use. Thankfully it's not, but that means we haven't found it."

"Send it to me, the footprint, and I'll have Jarvis monitor for it. Even if it's used for a second, he should be able to at least flag it."

Frustrated, Tony slid the top photo to the bottom of the stack, glancing at the new photo. He skipped it, not wanting to dwell on the image of his father holding his daughter. It was an unpleasant reminder that his dad kept things from him, kept the most important things from him. It stung that Howard could trust him to take over Stark Industries but couldn't trust him to be a father.

The next picture brought a melancholy smile to his lips.

This time it was Maria cradling Hannah, her tiny hand curled around his mother's finger. His mom looked like she was saying something, or maybe she was singing, judging by the expression on her face. Tony flipped the pictuer to the back. _First time we held Hannah_ , was written in faded green ink. _The docs finally let her out of her egg hatcher._

He snorted, holding up the photo for Gabe to read the back. "Dum Dum wrote this, didn't he?"

"Yep. Next picture should be his turn."

"Just photos of them holding Itty Bitty?"

"In that stack."

"Hm." Tony set the pictures back on the desk. "So, what else is in the big box of secrets?"

Gabe's sobriety as he pulled another file from the box had Tony leery of the papers inside. He narrowed his eyes, thumbing through them quickly.

 _Protein sequence, gene modification, increased erythrocyte function…_

"Gabe, what is this?"

The elder man sat heavily in the chair across from Tony, putting his head in his hands.

" _Gabe._ "

"What do you think it is?" Gabe barked. "Take a guess—don't make me explain it."

Tony threw the folder on the table, folding his hands and tucking them under his chin. "You all had Dad's serum. Every damned one of you. Now your kids have it, your grandkids have it, it's running through their blood. The Legacy passed down." His mouth formed a thin line. "Hannah has it. That's why it's in the tote in the first place."

Gabe shifted, adjusting his posture in his seat. "She's got more than the others."

"How much?"

"More than half. Three quarters, I'd say."

Tony paused, doing the math. "Her mother was full blooded because her parents both had it. That doesn't explain the other quarter." He leaned forward to stare at his father's old friend. "Tell me they didn't inject her."

"No, they didn't."

"Then why… no." Tony shook his head. "He didn't. He _did._ "

"First subject," Gabe admitted. "Your dad had the serum figured out five years after Cap disappeared. Nineteen-fifty. He didn't have the vita-ray machine—it was destroyed to keep it away from HYDRA—but he did have the Tesseract in his possession. The energy signatures were close enough for him to rig another machine, but he didn't turn the serum in to the government until they noticed he wasn't aging at a normal rate. And even then, he only gave them the serum, not the Tesseract."

Tony's knuckles went white. "Did any of you consider what the impact would be on your kids?"

"Most of us did. The serum has to be activated and it's inactive until something triggers it. With Cap, it was the Vita-Rays. With us, the Tesseract. Most of us didn't activate the serum until after we had kids. That way, they could make their own choice."

"Most of you?"

"Peggy and Dugan didn't wait. They never expected to marry, swore they were married to their work. They've had the active substance since 1950. That's why Addy, Hannah's mother, walked out. She didn't like not having a choice, didn't like the idea of what was expected of her."

" _Addy_ is Hannah's mother?" Tony sputtered. "No wonder Peggy looked ready to murder me at my parents' funeral."

He knew that he had slept with a Carter-Dugan, but he didn't know which one it _was._ Addy was the youngest of the Carter-Dugans, only a year younger than he was. They were old buddies, back in the days before he screwed up. Figuratively and literally.

"Wait, wait, wait. The serum was the big "responsibility" thing Addy always complained was being pushed on her?"

Gabe clenched his jaw. "I think that's part of the reason she decided to abort the twins—she didn't want them to go through the same things she did. The expectations of being a Legacy smothered her. They smother everyone, really. The Infinity Serum made it worse, I think. Once you have the kind of abilities the serum grants, you have a responsibility to use them the right way, a way where they won't be wasted."

"And that's the philosophy that made Addy walk out." Tony grimaced. "If Hannah has the active serum, why doesn't she have abilities?"

"I don't know, Tony, I'm not a scientist. I think it's because she was born so prematurely, but it could just be latent, something that crops up only when she needs it. If she were exposed to a trigger, it would likely give her the abilities. I know that my daughter and grandkids don't have the abilities, but they have some of the benefits. Hannah does, too, I'm sure you've noticed."

"The increased metabolism."

Gabe's lips quirked. "Yep, noticed that one early on. For such a tiny girl, she can pack away some food. Make sure to watch her, see to it that she's getting the high-calorie intake she needs. She already needs double the caloric intake, with twins she'll need almost triple. She's also got a higher immunity. Sure, she has issues with asthma and her hips, but apart from that, I don't think she's really been sick with a cold or the flu a day in her life."

"She was kidnapped because she has the serum."

"Yeah." Gabe shook his head. "It's why Peggy and Dugan were out of the picture the night your parents were assassinated."

"And that's when they put her up for adoption?"

"Yep. Howard recommended it originally, said their life was too full of crazy to keep her safe." Gabe huffed. "I feel like everything comes back to that serum, the good and bad. It's why Hannah even survived the abortion, why she was put up for adoption, why she was kept from you. It's why she's in the Tower with you all, too."

Tony swallowed. "I was too high-profile for her to be safe."

"That, and you weren't ready."

"And whose right was it to decide that?"

"We did the best we could."

"Well, she's still here, so that says something."

"You're both still here," Gabe pointed out. "That serum saved your life, too." He nodded at the arc reactor. "An ordinary man would never have lived through that, Tony."

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy: I suck at keeping promises. I meant for Peggy and Dum Dum to make an appearance in this chapter, I even have their scenes mostly edited, but that kind of didn't happen because this chapter got away from me. My apologies! But at least I'm getting better at posting every month, right? I would love to be the author that posts on a weekly schedule, but school keeps me busy, especially because I'm on scholarship and can't lose the GPA I have right now. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It is technically the beginning of the Legacy BBQ, so I sort of kept my promise? I just kind of found that that arc will be several chapters long rather than just one. But that's good, right? I think? Maybe? Oh well.**

 **Thank you guys so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! I am actually going to reply to reviews this time because I actually kept up with them. Yay? If you were a guest reviewer, I'll reply here, but if you have an account, check your inbox. :) Here goes:  
**

 **Guest: Of course he will!**

 **Izzybug: Here's that next chapter! And I can't wait either! If I could just finish writing the dratted thing.**

 **M: Aw, thanks! I'm glad you thought Peggy and Dugan funny, because I love writing those two. And thank you for trusting my choices, I think that's very sweet and it makes me very happy. :)**

 **Winter kiss: No worries, I plan to continue it as long as I can! :)**

 **Thank you everybody for reading! If something doesn't make sense in this chapter, just let me know and I'll clarify it! Drop a review and tell me what you think!**

 **Austa la pasta, amigos!**


	15. Convocation

**Tony has the serum, Milo has a puppy, and Hannah has an intersting day.**

* * *

Tony came out of the study, pale and deeply shaken. Hannah went to him, giving him a tight hug. He fiercely returned it, wrapping his arms securely around her waist and laying his head on her shoulder.

"God, Hannah," he breathed.

"I know," she said quietly. She sensed and dreaded the looming conversation ahead, but she and Tony had come further than anticipated in the past few months they had known each other, and she wasn't willing to stilt their progress by withdrawing now.

He held her at arm's length so he could see her face, but didn't release her from his grip. "Do you know? Do you really know?"

She swallowed. "Gabe told you about the serum and the kidnapping?"

"Yeah. What about the, uh, the adoption thing?"

Uncomfortable, Hannah thought carefully for a moment. "I think I've figured that part out, too. Was it a "too dangerous to keep me" thing?"

"I... yeah. I just found out I got the same concoction running through my veins, too, just not as strong."

Hannah pulled him back into the hug. She knew exactly what that felt like.

"Saved my life while I was over in Afghanistan, though, so I'm not complaining. Who told you about it?" Tony asked. "Mr. Lips-Are-Sealed in there doesn't seem like he would have."

She hated the serum, the way everything tied back into it. She hated not having a choice, hated that she and her children were in more danger because she had the substance running through her. She wasn't stupid, she knew very well that she was likely a hot commodity in the villain underworld for far more than being a Stark by blood.

"Saved mine, too, I guess," she said quietly. "It was Logan. He... he helped get me back, when the kidnapping happened. And Truman kind of figured out I had the serum because he and Dr. Banner tested my DNA after the whole Widow-Panic happened. Truman said Dr. Banner tried to tell you about it but you were kind of... I don't remember how he put it."

Tony pulled a face. "Oh. That was what was in the file he marked. I, uh, forgot to read it."

Hannah's eyebrows shot up. "You "forgot" to read it?"

"I don't like being handed things. Bruce knows this, I was trying to prove a point."

She snorted. "Oh my god."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an idiot, I know."

Tony suddenly caught sight of Milo holding a squirming bundle of black and white fur and made a noise of protest. Before Milo came along two months ago, the Tower was a no-kid, no-pet, and therefore a no-stickiness zone. Now it was just a no-pet zone. Though it seemed that policy was about to go out the window, too.

"Uh, that things not actually coming home with us, right?"

Hannah turned to look and shrugged. "Maybe? He seems pretty attached to her already."

He sighed. "Did he name it?"

"I don't think so. I think—"

"Momma!" Milo called, running up to her. "Look, I named it!"

She sent Tony a smirk. "...Never mind."

Tony sighed in mock-defeat. "I'll call Pepper and have her pull preparations together. Whatcha name it, mini-me?"

Milo grinned up at him happily. "Heidi."

"That's what we get for letting you watch old man movies with Cap on the way down here," Tony snorted.

Hannah elbowed him in the ribs. "Shirley Temple is classic, thank you. I think it's a sweet name."

Milo nodded. "She's a goat-dog, and she has blue eyes, too! She's not gots yellow hair, but Dee said the book Heidi does, so it's okay." His speech was a little muddled, a usual characteristic during exciting circumstances.

"He's excited," Tony whispered as Milo marched away to show Remy his prize.

"How'd you guess?" she asked rhetorically.

"Grammar. It's a collie, right?"

"Border Collie Aussie mix. Usually super intelligent—with the exception of the one I had until I was in high school. Hairspray was kind of an idiot."

"...Hairspray? Poor dog never had a chance with a name like that."

"My mom used Aussie Hairspray at the time," she snickered, "I'm sure you can see why my three-year-old self wanted to name an Australian Shepard mix Hairspray."

"Your parents let you do that?"

"No. But I was a stubborn little turd who kept calling her that until it was all she answered to."

Tony was amused and saddened that he had missed Hannah growing up. "You need to tell me more stories about when you were a kid."

* * *

Hannah's phone rang early the next morning, and she reached over a still-sleeping Milo and Heidi to grab it. Tony couldn't really believe she was letting the animal sleep in the bed, but the dog had whined until she picked it up and brought it inside and it was really a sweet little thing.

"Hello?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

" _Shhhh. Come outside_ ," Danielle whispered into the phone. " _Hurry. Don't wake anyone up_."

"What about Milo?"

" _He'll be fine, we won't be long_."

"Let me find my shoes..."

" _You don't need them. Just come on! We need to have a girl chat!"_

"Alright, alright. I'm hanging up."

She tiptoed out of the room, crossing her fingers that the ones with super senses didn't hear her sneaking out. She almost made it, but Heidi woke up and scrambled after her, crashing into walls and Hannah's legs in her haste. The puppy underneath her feet caused her to stumble, and her knee-jerk response was to grab the nearest thing she could for support. Unfortunately, what she happened to grab was a sheet from one of the upper bunks, and she went down with a crash, pulling the thin fabric with her.

"If ya wanted to see Remy naked, _cher_ , all you have to do is ask," Remy drawled from the direction the sheet came from.

Hannah immediately covered her eyes with her hand from where she sat on the floor. "Oh god, you sleep naked? What the mess, dude?"

Heidi yipped excitedly, licking Hannah's face.

"What are ya doin', kid?" Logan rumbled from the bunk below the Cajun. "It's five in the morning."

"You look like Elmer Fudd when you're trying to sneak around," Steve said in amusement from her other side. He reached down and scooped Heidi up, rubbing behind her ears to calm her down. Apparently, he had been awake and aware of her tiptoeing the entire time.

Remy just smirked.

"Don't wake anyone up, she said. We need to have a girl chat, she said," she grumbled. "Yeah, okay, sure, Danielle. Like clumsy me can make it past super senses."

"Ah, a girl chat," Remy grinned. "Going 'ta chat 'bout how handsome ah am now that you 'ave seen Remy naked?"

"You wish." Hannah retorted, turning an interesting shade of red as she balled the sheet up and threw it in the general direction of the man's voice. "I didn't see anything, you loser, I shut my eyes. Put some pants on, LeBeau."

Remy chuckled. "The offer still stands, _ma bebelle_. Jean-Luc asks 'bout ya all tha time."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure, because I'm so memorable."

"Ya hit Wolvie with a brick—he still tells tha' story at tha' gala."

Logan growled. "You better not tell that story this year, pup."

"No promises," she grinned. "It's basically a tradition at this point." She looked towards the door. "Danielle's waiting for me, so I'm just gonna go..."

She carefully took Heidi out of Steve's arms, carrying the puppy with her outside to meet Danielle.

Steve gave Remy a raised eyebrow. "Stark going to blast your hide into the next century if you keep flirting with his daughter."

"Give it up, Gambit," Logan grumbled. "You'll give Dugan a heart attack if he hears you propose to his granddaughter."

Remy's eyes were alight with mischief. "Now tha's an idea!"

Logan snarled. "Put some pants on, Cajun."

"Ah 'ave had them on 'dis whole time," the man snickered.

* * *

"What are we doing?" Hannah asked.

Danielle grinned. "We are going to go skinny dipping."

Hannah scowled, and her friend began to giggle.

"The look on your face," Danielle gasped in laughter. "I'm kidding."

"Hardy har har." Hannah rolled her eyes. "But you've obviously got something up your sleeve."

"Oh yeah. Ready for a swap-a-roo?" She tossed Hannah a plastic package.

Hannah snorted at the pack of Avenger-themed underwear.

"Trip?" she queried.

"Oh yeah," Danielle grinned. "I bought a butt-ton of other Avenger-themed clothes too. Shirts, shoes, pants, you name it. We're swapping everything out."

"I know why, but _why_?"

Danielle grinned at her. "Because how many times have we actually gotten one over on "Agent Trip" after he's gotten us?"

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Uh-hu. And how exactly are we going to get one over on him now?"

"Diego is helping us."

"Your brother better not sleep naked," Hannah grumbled. "I don't need to see his junk."

Danielle snorted. "Don't worry, I'll protect your modesty, oh virtuous one."

They successfully pulled off the heist, though only because Diego helped. Hannah was ninety-nine percent sure that the man had used SHIELD tech to somehow knock out Trip's senses for the time they were in his room, though she pleaded the fifth when Gabe gave her a raised eyebrow at breakfast. Trip, on the other hand, gave her the stink eye, muttering under his breath as he uncomfortably adjusted his Iron Man t-shirt, much to Tony's egoistic delight.

* * *

Hannah was lying face-down on Gabe's couch, cursing Dernier in French while the man chuckled.

Gabe gave her a look of disappointment from his stance beside the Frenchman and Steve, who was offering suggestions to improve Hannah's fighting form. "Hannah, there's no need to be so crass. You're making Cap blush."

" _Pardonnez mon anglais_ ," she retorted grumpily.

She understood that this was to help her become better equipped to defend and protect herself as well as her children, and she was grateful for their help. But she was also sweaty, sore, and miserable.

"That joke was only funny the first two times," Gabe grumbled.

"It's not like he hasn't heard worse from you guys back in the forties." Hannah turned to scowl at the group of old friends. "I'm done. No more today."

Dernier nodded. "No more today."

"Tomorrow though..." Steve continued.

She groaned, burying her face back into the cushions. It was uncomfortable, what with the now-visibily showing swell of her stomach, but she was too tired to care.

Danielle came flying in the front door then, announcing loudly, "The Europeans are coming!"

"Yay, Falsworths and Pinkertons," Hannah's muffled voice replied. "That leaves who? The Moritas and Sawyers?"

"And the Dugan-Carters but—oh crap." Danielle began backtracking as she caught sight of the mats on the floor and her friend facedown on the couch.

"Danielle," Gabe called sternly to his granddaughter. "Get back here."

She sighed. "Yes?"

Gabe motioned to the mats. "Your turn."

Danielle gave Hannah a dirty look when her friend sat up on the couch, hissing, "We were supposed to warn each other! Why didn't you text me?"

Steve grinned at Gabe's granddaughter as he tossed Hannah her phone, which she caught with a sour expression.

"We've been doing this since you two were teenagers," Gabe laughed. "We know all your tricks."

Danielle strode to the mat, motioning for Dernier to step up. "Come on, Jackie-boy, let's hurry up and get this over with."

Jacques stepped onto the mat, and in the span of a few seconds, the motion was followed by a loud thud. Hannah missed exactly what had happened, but she knew it had ended with Dernier flat on his back, blinking at the ceiling.

"All our tricks, huh?" Danielle hummed.

Steve leaned over the downed man in amusement. "You okay there, Frenchie? If I recall, it used to be a lot harder to get the drop on you."

Dernier gave Danielle the side-eye. "You've been training."

She rolled her eyes. "Diego and Trip have been working with me. I thought you knew that."

Gabe grinned. " _I_ knew that, but _he_ didn't."

Dernier groaned, shutting his eyes. "I hate you."

* * *

Tony looked around at the gathered families that afternoon, frowning. The Moritas and Sawyers had arrived, leaving only the Carter-Dugan clan out of the festivities. "Do you think they changed their minds, Gabe?"

The older man shook his head. "Peggy will get them here."

"How long does this barbecue usually last?"

"Officially, it starts this evening and ends tonight. Unofficially, it can go on for a week. Everyone sort of camps out, grills meat, and lets the kids play. Things like that."

Tony looked at Hannah, who was laughing as the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the Commandos crowded around her and begged for a specific story while Wolverine glowered nearby. "Are we sure it's a good idea for Hannah to meet her grandparents? Won't that dredge up a lot of abandonment issues?"

Gabe gave him a look. "I think that's ship has already sailed, Tony."

He sighed. "I guess. I just... I don't want her to get her heartbroken if they don't accept her."

"I don't think we have to worry about her being accepted. Her folks love her, always have." Gabe gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "No father wants their princess's heart broken. It's normal, Tony."

Tony snorted, running his hand roughly through his hair. "I feel like I've aged ten years worrying about that kid since you called me."

"Do you wish I hadn't?"

The billionaire gave Gabe a startled look. "No. I love her, even if she won't say it back or call me "dad". She can call me "Tony" for the rest of my life and I will never regret finding her."

And it was true. Whatever Hannah called him, she was still his daughter, even if he had missed out on the first twenty-two years of her life. He wouldn't give up knowing her—wouldn't give her up—for anything. She and Milo were family, the only blood relation he had left in the world. They were more than blood, too, and Tony shuddered to think he could have missed out if Gabe hadn't contacted he and Pepper.

Gabe nodded. "Good. Makes me know I did the right thing. Though Dugan may not think so."

"Dugan can suck it."

"Say that to his face," Gabe chuckled. "I'm curious about what would happen."

"Peggy would hang me up by my entrails, that's what would happen."

* * *

A dark car glinted in the setting sun and kicked up a dust cloud as it drove lazily down Gabe's gravel driveway. Hannah held a hand over her eyes, squinting. Her stomach swooped uneasily, and not because of the strong smell of burgers on the grill, but because she knew who was coming down the driveway.

She found Truman, slipping under his arm.

"I think," she said quietly, "that I may need that inhaler on hand."

He quickly began patting the pockets of his jeans, fumbling when he found the medication and passed it off. Hannah hardly ever admitted she may need her inhaler; she hated the nausea pitying looks that came with using it. That she admitted it now worried Truman and clued him in to how turbulent her emotions on meeting her grandparents were.

"Thanks."

"You alright?"

"Yeah. I think so. Just not sure I'm ready to meet them."

Truman glanced at the approaching vehicle. "Do you want me to—"

She shook her head. "No. This is something I need to do. Just let me stand here for a moment."

"Alright." He rubbed her shoulders. "I'm here as long as you need me."

Logan popped up beside her then, showing her his extended claws and giving her a meaningful look. "Just say the word."

She smiled, gently grabbing his hand (avoiding the claws) and pushing it down, declining the offer. "Let me meet them and hear their reasons. Keep those _handy_ , though," she winked.

"You and your puns," he groaned.

"They're horrible, I know," Trip intoned. He pulled Hannah into a delicate headlock and rubbed his fist against her hair, pulling it into frizzy tangles. She squirmed away, swatting at him.

"Staaaap," she whined.

"Why?" he grinned. "Want to look good for your childhood hero Kick-Butt Carter?"

Hannah glared. "No, I just don't want my hair to be a ten on the glamour shot disaster scale when I meet my grandparents."

Trip faltered, gaping at her. "What the mess, Hannah? You can't just spring that on a man!"

She blinked at him. "I thought Danielle told you."

"No, she didn't tell me! You're a triple legacy? Dang, girl, and I thought my family was crazy."

"They're Commandos, they're all crazy."

"Ain't that the truth," Trip snickered. "You just got a triple dose."

"Ten o'clock," Truman warned.

Hannah turned. "What?"

Remy suddenly tugged her away from the others, planted a firm kiss on her lips, spun her back into the group, and sent a wide smirk in the direction of the car before he melted away.

Hannah stumbled, gripping Logan's arm to steady herself as she wiped the back of her hand across her lips. "Blah. What was that about?"

"Gambit's trying to get himself killed, that's what," Logan grumbled just as Tony barked, "LeBeau!"

"Someone's in t-r-o-u-b-l-e!" Milo sang from his kid-sized bag chair beside Tony. "First comes love, second comes, marriage, then comes—" Tony leaned over and whispered in his ear, making Milo gasp in disgust. "He kissed my momma?! Yous dead meat! AUNT NAT! WE NEED TO HAVE A SASS'INATION!"

Truman doubled over with laughter.

"When did Romanoff become my kid's honorary aunt?" Hannah asked in confusion.

"Apparently when Mr. Southern Charm over there laid a big one on you," Truman grinned.

"Well if that's all it takes..." Trip puckered up comically, and Hannah laughed, shoving him away.

"Well," a cool British voice called gaily. "This seems to be nothing but delightful chaos."

Peggy Carter—Carter-Dugan, actually—stood with her hands on her hips, bright red lips smiling widely. Her husband, Dum Dum Dugan, stood beside her, holding their bags with a white-knuckled grip. Both looked far younger than they should have for their years, more mid-thirties than mid-nineties.

" _Delightful_ ," he scoffed in response. "He _kissed her_ , Pegs. My eyes are _bleeding_."

"You know bloody well she's done much worse than kissing," Peggy retorted with a chuckle. "Seeing as you're a great-grandfather now."

"Aw, Pegs, no. Don't do this to me today."

Peggy laughed as she walked gaily towards Hannah. She paused a few feet in front of her, a small smile touching her lips. Hannah felt her chest tighten, a familiar lump rising in her throat.

Peggy carefully took a step closer, and her hands came up to tenderly frame Hannah's cheeks. They shook slightly as they settled on her granddaughter's face, and Hannah saw the woman's dark brown eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"You're so beautiful," Peggy whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Hannah placed her own hands carefully over Peggy's, leaning into her touch. Her lower lip wobbled, mirroring Peggy's emotional response.

"Timothy dear," Peggy called softly, motioning for her husband.

The man hesitated, then followed Peggy's path to stand in front of Hannah. His eyes were filled with pain, and he unexpectedly reached out and wrapped her in a tight hug, crushing her to him.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said gruffly, "I'm so _damn_ _sorry_ , sweetheart."

* * *

 **Piper and Snippy: Woooo it's about to get deep. ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorite-ed, and followed this story! You guys rock!  
**

 **Izzybug: Hmm, hopefully I can squeeze something in. And thank you! I always enjoy reading your reviews!  
**

 **Winter kiss: Meeeee too, the Commandos are one of my favorite Marvel teams. Thank you for reviewing, I'm so glad you look forward to updates!**

 **M: Oh wow, thanks! I try to plan things out, though I make small changes here and there to better fit character dynamics and growth. And the balance of humor with serious topics is one of my favorite writing styles, I find that it's one of my more natural modes. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Christine-Danielle: Oh yes, oh. XD Thanks for the review! I got a good chuckle out of it!**


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